Brothers
by Dawnstorm101
Summary: It's been a year since Jim and Winona successfully reconnected, and now the Enterprise is stopped at Earth for a couple weeks. Bones and Jim are visiting the Kirk family farm for a week with the hope of a reunion between Jim and his brother, Sam. This time, though, it's further complicated by poor timing, illness, and meeting family for the first time. Sequel to Family.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: So I wasn't gonna do a sequel until someone mentioned one in a review of Family, and then I couldn't stop thinking about how the reunion with Sam would go, so this is happening. I hope it's a worthy sequel, especially since I've never actually written a sequel to a fanfic before (heck, Family was the first multi-chapter fic I've ever finished in several years of writing fanfic. Here's hoping I get this one done in a timely manner, too.).

* * *

"I don't wanna go," Jim muttered.

Leonard sighed. It had been a bit over a year since Jim reconnected with his mother, and they'd maintained steady contact when the crew wasn't busy exploring, fighting for survival, or escaping away missions gone wrong. Their bond was stronger than ever, though it hadn't been easy to get there. And now, in the most sensitive week of Jim's year, Jim had been invited to stay at Sam's farm. He had fought to find an excuse not to go, but between Winona and Leonard, Jim had eventually relented.

"You agreed to go, Jim," Leonard pointed out.

Jim shook his head, taking a step back from the transporter pad. "I was coerced into going. Does Sam even know?"

He barely managed to not roll his eyes. "We've been through this, Jim. Sam agreed to this, too, and neither one of you are backing out now."

"But neither of you mentioned the dates," Jim protested. "This is the _worst_ time to try this."

Jim turned a pair of distressed blue eyes on Leonard, and any and all traces of impatience vanished at the sheer anxiety in Jim's face. This was the one week a year during which Jim withdrew from his crew, barely talking during shift and immediately disappearing afterwards, only to reappear right on time, sometimes suffering from a hangover. During this week, he avoided away missions, leaving other senior crew members to lead them if there was no significant expectation of danger. The only ones who dared seek him out between shifts were Leonard, Spock, Carol, Uhura, Scotty, and Chekov, because they were essentially the only ones on the ship he had a very good reason not to order to leave him alone. Even when they did manage to find and talk to him, though, it was like talking to a wall: Unresponsive and unchanging.

"I know this is sucky timing, Jim, but maybe that's _why_ we chose it."

"So you want to torture me?" Jim asked, not even half joking.

Leonard rested a hand on his shoulder. "No. We just want you to be part of your family again."

Jim shuffled his feet. "I've already got one."

It was meant as a protest, but Leonard smiled anyway. "I know, and you're never gonna lose us. But there's a difference when it comes to your blood family, you know? It's that sense of shared origins. As much as we love each other like brothers, Sam was the one who grew up beside you, grew up in the shadow of your father's death, grew up an Iowan farm boy. No matter what you two go through, you'll always have that in common, and that isn't just something you throw away if you can keep it."

Jim dropped his gaze to the floor, resolutely not moving.

"Look, the _Enterprise_ is gonna be in orbit the whole time. If it gets real bad, we can always come back and try again in a few months or so, ok? But you need to give it a shot."

Finally, Jim succumbed. "Ok," he mumbled.

"Go on," Leonard urged when he still didn't get on the pad. Casting a pouty glance at Leonard, he picked up his suitcase and stepped up. Leonard stepped up beside him, and Jim hesitated a moment before signaling the ensign at the console they were ready.

-LLAP-

Winona picked up the car keys, calling "I'm going to pick up Jim and Doctor McCoy!" to Aurelan, her daughter-in-law, who was in the kitchen cooking dinner. Sam and her grandsons, Peter and Henry, were outside playing catch. Her granddaughter, Jane, was sleeping upstairs, getting over a bad cold. Winona found herself wondering if Jim would join the boys soon, or if she would forever be divided between two sons.

 _It's too early for that kind of thinking,_ she scolded herself.

Aurelan walked into the living room, wiping her tanned hands with a towel. Her long brown hair was tucked into a ponytail, her hazel eyes glimmering with a mixture of anticipation and concern – she had never before met Jim, and it was only after Winona's time on the _Enterprise_ that she had started hearing much about him. Of course, she had known of his existence, but anything beyond that had been too painful for Winona and too angering for Sam to speak of.

"What's he like again?" she asked curiously.

Winona smiled. "You'll see for yourself soon enough. I think," she added, biting her lip.

Aurelan tilted her head. "You think?"

"Well, he never really had this," Winona pointed out, waving a hand at the house. They stood in the living room, which was small enough to be cozy but big enough to be roomy. A beige sectional couch sat in the middle, framing a wooden coffee table, upon which rested a flower vase and an assortment of toys. Sharing the same wall as the front door was the wall-mounted, 50-inch holographic TV and a couple paintings of horses done by Winona's grandmother. To the left of that wall was the brick fireplace, the wood shelf above it filled with pictures of everyone but Jim (there was even a picture of Aurelan's deceased parents), except for one Winona had added a couple months ago of Jim, McCoy, and Spock. On the wall to the right of the front door was the coatrack and a few bookshelves filled with old-fashioned paper books.

"And?" Aurelan prompted when Winona didn't immediately continue.

"And I don't know how he'll react. Peter, Jane, and Henry have the perfect childhood he was deprived of because of how Sam and I felt about him and his father. The only time in his life he's felt truly at home is when he's captaining Starfleet's flagship, and, well, this ain't that. This is what he always wanted but never got. Seeing that, living in it for a week… I just don't know."

Aurelan went up to Jim's picture. He was laughing, McCoy's arm slung around his shoulders, while Spock looked on in mild confusion. At least, that's what Winona thought that expression was. "Well, if he's anything like you've made him out to be, I'm sure he'll be fine. I'm more worried about Sam, honestly."

Winona sighed. "I know. It's my fault, for letting him believe Jim abandoned us, but maybe when he sees who Jim is now…"

Aurelan hugged her briefly. "He'll come around. He usually does when it's something we care about."

Faint prickling in the back of her eyes signaled the beginning of tears she rapidly blinked to suppress. "We?"

"He's my brother-in-law. And the kids should know their uncle, and I have a feeling they'll love him."

Winona raised an eyebrow. "You mean his stories of space?"

"Close enough," Aurelan joked. "And you're going to be late if you don't leave now."

She shot a glance at the clock. "Right. I'll see you soon."

"Can't wait."

-LLAP-

Jim's heart pounded nervously as he rematerialized on Earth. God, this week would've been bad enough without the added pressure of living with his brother's family – _his_ family – during it. He couldn't curl up in a hidden corner with a bottle of Scotty's scotch and try to forget his origins now. Try to forget what had happen 31 years ago on Monday.

Bones inhaled deeply, closing his eyes to bask in the moment. "Earth."

Jim rolled his eyes. "Bones, living on a ship isn't that bad."

"Speak for yourself, kid."

Adjusting his grip on his suitcase, Jim headed out of the transport station. "I always do."

Bones jogged after him. "Even you can't deny that being on solid ground surrounded by breathable air is relaxing. No worrying the wall next to you is gonna blow up right before you get sucked into the vacuum of space."

"Speak for yourself, Bones."

"I always do."

They stepped into a bustling courtyard. The Iowan sun shone high above them from a cloudless blue sky. Picnic tables dotted the grassy area, which was walled in on three sides by holographic glass covered in ads that changed every few seconds. A simple circular fountain stood in the middle of it, water spurting sporadically from it. Since the picnic tables were all taken, Jim led Bones over to it, perching on the stone rim.

"When did Winona say she'd be here?" Bones asked.

Jim shrugged. "I dunno."

"I hope you won't act this indifferent when she gets here," Bones rebuked him gently.

Jim just shrugged again, swirling one finger around in the water.

Bones eyed the finger. "Do you even know how many germs could be in that water?"

"Nope, but you've dosed me up with every vaccine you can find that I'm not allergic to, and I know you've got your specialized Jim Kirk medkit in that suitcase, so I'm pretty sure I'll be fine."

Bones rolled his eyes. "You're such a child."

As Jim flashed a cheeky grin, the holographic ads all simultaneously flipped to the same ad, and suddenly the _Kelvin_ was plastered everywhere, accompanied by his father's uniform photo, the grinning face almost identical to Jim's own. Over the tune of Starfleet's theme song, a robotic voice began to say _"As a reminder, this coming Monday is the annual_ Kelvin _memorial ceremony. It starts at eight o'clock in the morning. Purchase your tickets now, and have a Happy New Year."_

Jim was up and running before the first sentence was halfway done, ignoring the stares of the strangers, the whispers of "Hey, was that Captain Kirk?" from those who recognized him. Bones didn't yell after him, just grabbed their suitcases and followed, finding him around the corner huddled against the wall, his head between his knees.

The grass crunched as Bones knelt beside him. "Jim…"

Jim shook his head. "I can't- I don't- I want to go home," he rasped.

"Jim, this is your home," Bones insisted gently.

"No, the _Enterprise_ is," Jim protested.

"You said you would give this a shot."

"I did. I want to go home."

Bones squeezed Jim's shoulder. "Look at me, Jim."

Slowly, Jim tilted his head to meet Bones's gaze.

"You knew going in there would be references to your dad, even before you knew that you would be spending your birthday with your family. Just give it until the end of tomorrow, ok? If you still can't stand it, we can go back to the ship first thing Wednesday morning. Deal?"

"Deal," Jim whispered.

"Good boy," Bones congratulated, ruffling his hair.

Jim reached up to smooth it. "I'm not a dog."

"Jim?"

He looked up, conflicted feelings rising within him when he saw his mother. On the one hand, her arrival meant he couldn't run back to his ship now. On the other hand, he had missed her.

"I heard the announcement on the radio…" she began, trailing off uncertainly. "I should've mentioned it…"

Jim stood up and hugged her, relieved when she hugged him back. "Not your fault," he murmured half-heartedly. She sighed, breaking free to look him over.

"That's a new scar," she observed, brushing a fingertip over what he knew was a pale white line on his throat. Some alien version of a lion had attacked him a few months ago, stopping only after Spock phasered it repeatedly – with the phaser set to kill. Honestly, it was a miracle he'd survived with only the one scar. He'd had to suffer a two-week stay in medbay afterwards. Although he hadn't really been conscious for the first few days.

"Later," he promised. "Can we just… get this over with?"

His mom winced slightly at his choice of words, but nodded in compliance. "Car's this way."


	2. Chapter 2

Aurelan leaned out the back door. "Dinner's almost ready!" she yelled.

Sam caught the baseball one last time. "Go wash up, boys. Remember, we've got company over tonight."

His twin sons ran inside, abandoning their mitts and shoes outside, already trying to guess what their mother had made tonight. As the door shut behind them, he heard tires crunching on gravel. Turning to look at the driveway, he watched his mom pull up and get out of the car, followed a moment later by two men. He vaguely recognized the dark-haired one, but the blond struck a devastatingly familiar figure.

He forced himself to walk calmly, tossing his own mitt and the ball towards his sons' as he approached the house. He hugged the side of the house, trying to get in unnoticed and delay the inevitable, although he thought he saw Mom glance over as he slipped into the front door.

He passed through the living room, stubbornly not looking at the picture of Jim, and entered the kitchen/dining room – only a small island separated the cooking and eating areas. The same light hardwood flooring that was in the living room continued in here, though he'd replaced the rotting wooden walls with warm orange tile years ago, making it the only room in the house without wooden walls. Tile kind of detracted from the farmhouse look in Sam's opinion, but Aurelan had fallen in love with this kind when she saw it on a TV show. The appliances were somewhat outdated, stainless steel instead of whatever the newest trend was. It wasn't a roomy kitchen, but Aurelan and Mom made do. The only thing in the dining room was a long, antique wooden table passed down from Sam's grandfather, surrounded by a set of eight matching, ornately carved chairs. Aurelan was just setting it now.

"Did the boys have fun?" she asked absently.

Sam nodded, picking up a handful of silverware and placing it beside the plates Aurelan was setting down. "Henry's getting real good at throwing curveballs."

Aurelan chuckled. "He's always been good at that."

Sam flashed a smile, remembering their shock when the doctor said they were expecting twins. Every preparation they'd made up to that point (which had started when they first decided to try for a baby, well before Aurelan actually became pregnant) had been for one kid, so they'd spent the last few months of her first pregnancy scrambling to set up something that would work for twins. They'd finished mere hours before Aurelan went into labor.

"Are they here?" Aurelan continued, trying for nonchalant but not quite hiding an edge of anticipation.

Sam bit back a sigh, knowing she had every right to be excited to meet her brother-in-law after twelve years of marriage. "Yes."

She paused in her task to kiss his cheek. "It'll all work out. You'll see. Why don't you go see if Jane is up to eating with us?"

Obediently, Sam turned and climbed the stairs. They led up to a hallway, each side broken up three doors, with a seventh at the end. A sign hung on each door, stating whose room it was, and Sam turned into the first door on the left, adorned by a sparkly pink paper sign with "Jane's Room – Girls and Dad ONLY!" scrawled on it in purple marker. The room wasn't large; a dresser and a shelving unit each taking up its own pale pink wall, the door and a unicorn painting on the third wall, and Jane's full-sized bed pressed against the fourth, below the room's only window. Jane was just a lump beneath her teal-and-purple floral blankets. Sam perched on the edge of her bed.

"Hey, sweetheart," he murmured. "You want to eat dinner?"

Slowly, the lump shifted, and Jane's tiny face emerged. Bright blue eyes blinked at him, her tan face set in a tired expression. She sniffled. "Do I have to?" she rasped, her voice hoarse from a sore throat.

Sam shook his head. "Not if you're not up to it. But your uncle is visiting, remember?"

He didn't really think of Jim as their uncle, because they'd never met him, and he hadn't been a brother to Sam in seventeen years. Aurelan wouldn't let him deny it to the kids, though, and Sam hadn't argued. He didn't want to make things any more complicated for the little ones than he had to. In his opinion, the sooner Jim was off in space again, the better for Sam's family.

"'M tired," she mumbled.

"Ok," Sam murmured. "I'll bring you some chicken noodle soup later, yeah?"

She nodded. Sam reached out to stroke her forehead, and nearly jerked his hand back.

Jane was burning up.

-LLAP-

Jim stared at the house as they pulled up. "Y-you didn't move?"

Gravel crunched beneath the tires. As his mom turned off the engine, she quietly replied "No."

 _Nope. Nope, nope, nope._

"Just another thing you forgot to mention, right?" Jim muttered, clutching his seat. Bones moved to gently pry his fingers open.

"I- Sam's redone some of it," she offered half-heartedly.

"Right, because _that's_ going to erase the memories of nearly dying at the hands of my stepfather," Jim snapped, feeling his heart and breathing rates accelerating. Bones got out of the car and leaned back inside, unbuckling Jim's seatbelt and half-guiding, half-tugging Jim out behind him.

"Jim, you're not that kid," Bones assured him. "No one's gonna hurt you now, and even _if_ they do, you can easily fight back."

Jim's gaze slid to the house, remembering huddling in the corner, the rain of blows, Frank's drunken shouting, his futile pleads for mercy, tears burning down his face-

"Jim. Jim, look at me," Bones ordered. Out of habit, Jim's eyes snapped to Bones's face, locking onto the unwavering comfort his hazel eyes brought. "You're safe. I promise. Hear me? You're safe. I promise."

He forced himself to nod.

"Say it. Tell me you know you're safe."

"You know you're safe," Jim managed to whisper.

Bones snorted. "You little brat," he laughed, patting the side of Jim's head. Jim smirked feebly. "But seriously, Winona, anything else panic-attack-inducing you wanna warn us about?"

Jim glanced up, seeing his mom hovering anxiously by the car. "Uh, does his brother count?" she checked, only half-joking.

"No idea," Jim mumbled. "Does he still- I mean, you told him that I didn't want to leave, right?"

She nodded. "Definitely. He's still… It hasn't done much to change his mind."

"How am I supposed to fix what isn't my fault?" Jim whispered rhetorically.

Bones opened the trunk. "Only one way to find out, kid."

Jim took a deep breath, calming himself as best he could. Bones handed him his suitcase, and he forced himself to follow his mom and Bones into the house. They paused on the wooden front porch as she opened the door. It had been expanded since Jim was thirteen, with a new screened-in section containing a full outdoor dining set. Jim turned, taking in the endless landscape of farmland underneath a cloudless sky before the door creaked open. Then Bones was gently tugging him inside, and he was back in the house of his nightmares.

Except, it didn't look like that house anymore. The house he'd known had been dark, gloomy, dirty, and empty. This house was crammed with bright toys, happy pictures, and it was carefully cleaned, not a speck of dust to be seen. Coats and shoes were arranged by the door in a sort of haphazard neatness. The couch was worn down by use. In short, it looked like any other happy homestead, the likes of which Jim had always dreamed of as a little kid.

Still didn't change the fact that he had almost been beaten to death underneath where the TV now hung. That he'd spent countless days and nights huddled in his bed, nursing his wounds, wondering when Frank would go into his next drunken rage. That he'd been utterly alone. That his brother had never been there when Jim had needed him.

And now, when he was finally moving on, he had been dragged back to his childhood hell.

As his mom shut the door behind them, footsteps pounded towards them. Jim instinctively tensed up, relaxing upon hearing a cry of "Grandma, did you bring them?!"

A pair of identical boys raced into the living room. Short brown hair topped their heads, excited blue eyes set in faces still thickened by some baby fat. Their skin was tanned, their hands sporting the marks of labor and rough play – clearly, they did their fair share to help with the crops. Farming was much easier than it had been a couple hundred years ago, but it still required plenty of manual labor and time in the sun. Jim knew from experience, but Sam always did most of the hands-on stuff when they were kids – tech repair had been Jim's job, especially once Frank's beatings started making it harder and harder to help with the crops.

His mom grinned, kneeling down to sweep the slightly slower boy into a hug. The other boy skidded to a halt in front of Jim, staring up at him owlishly. "You're captain of the _Enterprise_ , right?" he demanded eagerly.

"Peter, manners," Mom scolded. Peter didn't even spare her a glance.

Jim laughed. "Yeah, kid, she's my ship."

The other boy wiggled free of Mom's arms. "Is she awesome?"

"Only the best," Jim bragged.

"Wicked," the boys chorused.

Mom stood up. "This is Henry, and that one's Peter," she said, pointing at each boy. Peter had a small scar by the right corner of his lip, but otherwise they were identical.

"Don't they have a little sister?" Bones asked. He tried to be nonchalant, but Jim heard the hints of longing. Bones was thinking about Joanna.

"Yeah," Mom replied. "She's sick, though, so I don't know if you'll get to meet her today."

Bones kicked into doctor mode. "How sick?"

Mom shrugged. "It's just a bad cold."

"Aurelan!" a new voice called. Deeper than Jim remembered, but he would know that voice anywhere. After all, it had been one of the last voices he'd heard before Frank nearly killed him. And it had been abandoning him.

"What is it, honey?" a female replied – probably Aurelan.

Footsteps descended stairs Jim couldn't see. "Jane's burning up."

"What? She was just tired this morning!" Aurelan exclaimed.

Bones tore open his suitcase and freed his medkit. Jim grabbed his arm. "Bones, she's not Joanna."

The glance Bones shot at him was filled with a deep, long-lasting heartbreak. "But she is your niece."

"This way," Mom urged. "Boys, stay down here," she ordered before leading Bones deeper into the house, leaving Jim with the twins. They heard a brief, muffled conversation, then three pairs of footsteps ascended the stairs. A fourth person came into the living room, freezing at the sight of Jim.

"Daddy, is Jane ok?" Henry piped up.

Slowly, Sam nodded. "Yeah, son. She'll be fine. Go wait in the dining room, boys – and _don't_ eat any of the food."

They scampered away, leaving Jim alone with his brother.

"Hey, Sam," he greeted, hesitantly extending his hand.

Sam's gaze sharpened into a glare. "Look, the only reason you're here is because Aurelan wanted to meet you in person. Just stay out of the way, and get out of here A.S.A.P. Got it?"

Jim couldn't help but flinch back, instinctively on the defensive. "Got it," he mumbled.

Sam snorted. "Still a coward, I see."

"Hey," Jim snapped. "I'm not a coward now, and I never was."

"Well, you've never shown much backbone."

"You don't know me," Jim hissed.

"And whose fault is that?"

"I didn't choose to leave! Mom abandoned me."

"But you could've called! You're not an idiot. You could've found us, especially since we haven't even moved."

"I thought – with good reason, too – that neither of you wanted me around, so why the hell should I have bothered? Plus, I've talked to Mom almost weekly for over a year, or haven't you noticed?"

"And what reasoning would that be?" Sam asked acidly, ignoring his last sentence.

"Do you have about a million years to listen?"

"Hey! Cut it out, both of you," Mom snapped, jogging into the living room. "You're upsetting Jane."

"So family problems are once again my fault?" Jim muttered.

She backtracked instantly. "That's not what I meant, Jim, I promise. It's just that she's sick and can hear the yelling, and she's never liked conflict. So both of you need to be quiet and stop fighting. Especially you, Sam, because none of this was your brother's fault."

"But-" Sam began to protest.

Mom jabbed a finger at Sam. "I won't let Jim take the blame for everything anymore. You best accept that and at least try to make up with him, otherwise the rest of your life is going to be very miserable. Got it?"

Sam lowered his gaze. "Got it," he mumbled.

"Good. Now, it's time for dinner. Jim, you can put your suitcase in your room. Through the kitchen, up the stairs, second room on the right. I hope you and Leonard don't mind sharing…"

"We were roommates for three years, Mom. It's fine," Jim reassured her.

"Well, there's only one bed…"

That gave Jim a moment's pause. Then he shrugged. "We've shared worse quarters before."

Mom's eyebrows furrowed. "Do I want to know what that means?"

Memories of tiny prison cells flitted through his mind. "Probably not."

She opened her mouth, closed it again, then simply said "Go put your suitcase away."

Jim patted her shoulder as he walked past her, ignoring Sam, forcing himself to acknowledge the twins' curious looks with an awkward nod. As he entered the second level, he saw Bones and Aurelan sitting on either side of a flushed little girl. _My sister-in-law and my niece…_ Jim thought to himself. The idea was strange, to say the least.

Bones, probably hearing the suitcase's wheels on the floor, glanced up apologetically and mouthed "Are you ok?" Jim just shrugged and continued into the room his mother had specified. A plain wood sign dubbed it "Guest room." Closing the door behind him, Jim slumped against it and closed his eyes, taking deep breaths. He hadn't expected a warm welcome but, well, he hadn't expected Sam to essentially threaten him if he didn't cooperate – and he had let Sam do it, instantly backing off without a fight, fearing retaliation. It was his childhood all over again. It was a million times worse than his mom just showing up on the _Enterprise_ , because at least there he had always been safe and in control. Here, though, his only options had been running away or being controlled.

 _You promised Bones you would try. Just don't make Sam punch you, don't punch Sam, and then get out of here Wednesday morning._

Wednesday couldn't come fast enough.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: So I thought "Yay, week-and-a-half long break, I'll get loads of writing done!" I was wrong. I'm writing just as fast (or maybe slower) as if I were stuck in school seven hours a day. Oh well, as long as I still write and post, eh?

* * *

Leonard adjusted the dosage on a hypospray. "This is gonna sting a bit, Jane, but it'll help you feel better, ok?"

She nodded. Holding her damp blonde hair out of the way, he injected the medicine into her neck. Jane winced but didn't make a sound. "Congratulations, Jane, you're officially braver than your Uncle Jim. He always whimpers when I do this to him."

Jane's chuckle turned into a yawn. Aurelan, sitting on the other side of Jane's bed, stroked her hair. "I'll come back later with some soup, all right sweetie?" she murmured. Jane nodded, and was fast asleep in moments. Leonard packed up his medkit and stood, quietly slipping into the hall followed by Aurelan.

"Thank you," Aurelan murmured sincerely.

Leonard waved dismissively. "It's just my job."

"Yeah, but…" Aurelan said, glancing at the guest room door. "You left Jim to do it. Alone with Sam. From what I've heard, you don't leave him for just anyone."

"True," Leonard conceded.

"So is it just because she's Jim's niece, or…?"

 _"Daddy, my scratch hurts. Kiss it better?"_

 _"Daddy, can you read me a bedtime story?"_

 _"Daddy, can I ride on your shoulders?"_

 _"I love you, Daddy."_

God, there were a million reasons. All named Joanna.

"Yeah" was all he said. Because Jim was why he was here, after all. Not his little girl whom he hadn't seen in seven years.

Aurelan clearly saw right through him. Women had a way of doing that – sensing when someone was lying about emotions. Flashing a reassuring smile, she pointed at the guest room door. "Just put your stuff in there. I'll see what I can do to calm Sam down a bit."

"Why does he hate Jim so much?" Leonard asked.

Aurelan opened her mouth, then shrugged. "I don't know, honestly. I never heard much about him before Winona visited the _Enterprise,_ and Sam still doesn't mention him."

"This is going to be next to impossible, isn't it?"

Aurelan quietly closed Jane's door. "Yeah, it is. But, for better or for worse, we both chose to be part of the Kirk life."

Leonard sighed, stepping back towards the door. "Yeah, we did. What the hell were we thinking?"

Aurelan laughed. "Probably something like 'Look at this lost soul who needs my help.' Or nothing at all. Either way, good luck to us both," she called as she headed downstairs.

"Yeah, we'll need that," Leonard muttered, half to himself. Shoving thoughts of Joanna to the back of his mind, he entered the guest room.

It was a bit cramped, a king-sized bed comprised of two separate mattresses shoved into the far corner taking up most of the available space. A closet sat to Leonard's right, and between that and the bed was a nightstand below a small window, adorned by a small digital clock. Aside from that, it was pretty Spartan. Like the rest of the house, it was wood.

Jim sat hunched over on the floor, his back against the bed, his face in his hands, his elbows on his knees.

"Jim?"

He lifted his head. "Is it time to go down?" he asked. His voice lacked emotion, the sign of a man resigned to his fate and trying not to hurt anyone. The last time he'd sounded like this, Leonard and Spock had been left behind in a jail cell while guards escorted Jim to his execution, something he'd actually _agreed to_ just to keep Leonard and Spock safe.

Leonard crouched down beside him. "Hey, don't talk like that. Don't. This isn't an execution, it's family. Sure, sometimes you'd rather be executed, but hey, you'll get through it. I mean, how often does Spock drive you up the wall with all his logic? How many arguments have you had with your mother since you two reconnected? How often does Uhura want to slap you for being an idiot? How often do I want to stab you with a hypo to make you shut up? How often-"

"Is there a point to this?" Jim interrupted.

"Family isn't supposed to be easy. They're supposed to make you miserable – that's why they're family. Granted, nowhere near as miserable as they've made you, but the boys are already fascinated by you and Aurelan's a great woman. Get to know them, get close to them, and you and Sam will gradually fall into place. Trust me."

Jim glanced away. "How do you know?"

"Well, I wouldn't put up with the hobgoblin if you weren't friends with him, and look how far I go to protect him."

"Bones, that took years."

"It only took a few months, Jim – we're just really good at arguing like we hate each other. And I never said it would be instant, or even remotely fast. But proximity is key in forming relationships, and I have a feeling that if Aurelan likes someone, Sam will eventually follow her lead."

"Bones, you haven't even seen them together for more than a few seconds."

"That's how it was with Jocelyn. I thought some of her friends were annoying, but the more time they spent with us, the less I hated them."

"That's so reassuring, Bones."

Leonard clapped Jim on the shoulder. "You've gotta try something, and I just can't see you two talking it out like level-headed human beings."

Jim mock-glared at him. "Really?"

"Yes. Now, time for dinner. Come on, kid," he urged, standing and extending his hand.

After a moment's pause, Jim took it.

-LLAP-

Aurelan descended the stairs, leaving McCoy to take care of Jim. She had seen him pass by, undoubtedly shaken by Sam's anger. It was a rare sight, Sam losing his temper like that, but when it did happen, she pitied the person suffering his wrath. Although, he normally had a much better reason for yelling than just the person's presence.

She found Sam already sitting at the table, alongside Winona and their sons, silently waiting the others. "Sam, can I talk to you outside?" Aurelan asked in a tone that left no room for argument.

"Aurelan-"

"Now," she added sharply. Grumbling, he stood. Turning on her heel, she led him through the living room and to the front porch. As he started to say something, she slapped his cheek.

"Ow!" he yelped. "What was that for?

"Your brother," Aurelan snapped. "That is just the teensiest fraction of everything he has suffered, both at the hands of this family and of other people. He does not need you adding to it by insulting him purely because he was brave enough to agree to stay here."

"It's not my fault he's fragile," Sam hissed.

"The hell it isn't," Aurelan shot back. "You've shunned him for seventeen years for no reason he can control, and God only knows what you did when you were with him every day. I know you're a different man now, Sam, but you're not acting like it. Stop acting like the douche I knew in high school, and be the kind, caring man I fell in love with. And he's not fragile."

"Then what is he?"

"I don't know him and I'm not a psychologist, but I'm guessing that looking up the definition of PTSD will answer that question pretty nicely. Now, get rid of your attitude and _then_ come to dinner. I won't have you yelling at him in front of our kids. Understood?"

Sam sighed. "Yes."

After taking a calming breath, Aurelan returned to the kitchen, once again a smiling mother. "Now, who wants meatballs?"

-LLAP-

Jim followed Bones downstairs, blinking when he greeted Aurelan with a bright grin. Seriously, how friendly could you get after spending a few minutes together worrying about a sick little girl?

"Did you guys, like, talk a lot while taking care of Jane or something? Cause you never smile at me like that, Bones."

Bones clapped him on the shoulder. "We took a moment to bond over our ridiculous decision to stick around the Kirk men. That kind of craziness brings two people together in a special way."

Jim rolled his eyes. "Love you, too, Bones."

Bones grinned, then turned to the table that Mom, Peter, and Henry already sat at. "Are those meatballs? Awesome."

Aurelan set down the dish she was carrying and stepped up to Jim. "Hi," she greeted, smiling in a way that soothed Jim's nerves despite everything. She stood about a foot shorter than Jim but carried herself with an air of caring authority. "I'm pretty sure you already know this, but I'm Aurelan, your sister-in-law."

Jim managed to smile back. "And I'm Jim, your… brother-in-law."

Aurelan chuckled. "It sounds weird, doesn't it? A few months ago, we merely knew of each other's existence, and now we're here."

"Yeah," Jim murmured. "I'm here."

Her sunny expression faltered. Glancing towards her sons, she lowered her voice. "I'm sorry about Sam. He's normally more… rational than that. He's outside until he calms down a bit."

Jim glanced at them too, observing as they argued over which fork was whose. "Don't worry, I'm used to it."

She reached out, taking his hand for a brief moment. "You shouldn't be."

He struggled to keep his bitterness out of his voice. "People always say that, but I am. There's no changing that now."

Aurelan sighed contritely. "I'm sorry – I don't want to be one of those people. I guess I'm just trying to apologize for my husband."

"Don't. It's not your fault. Heck, it's probably not even your job to help fix this."

"It's as much my job as it is McCoy's," she pointed out. "Yet here we both are, determined to do everything in our power to pull you two together without tearing everyone apart. This isn't between two boys anymore – it's between all eight of us. And while that statement does mean I accept the kids being caught up in this, do try to keep it PG around them, all right?"

Jim laughed. "I do know how to take care of kids, you know."

Aurelan blinked, her head tilting. "Really?"

"You know, people always seem surprised about that," Jim commented in mock-surprise.

"From what Winona has told me, I can't possibly imagine why they would react that way," Aurelan retorted, her voice dripping with playful sarcasm.

"Yeah, you should've seen my communications officer's face when she saw me with one for the first time. Her shock was priceless."

"It doesn't really fit with the confident, reckless persona Winona's tales of your exploits have described. Is there a reason, or…?" Aurelan began to ask, trailing off as Jim's expression changed.

Jim swallowed back memories of Tarsus IV. "Not PG," he murmured.

Aurelan winced. "Sorry-"

"No, you didn't know. Besides, I should've seen the question coming. Anyway, what's for dinner? Smells delicious," he added quickly, not giving Aurelan a chance to discuss the matter further.

"Your mother's famous curried pumpkin and peas," Aurelan replied, maybe a bit too brightly.

"Awesome."

"Oh!" Aurelan exclaimed. "I nearly forgot – well, I guess it wouldn't have mattered much, since I have a week to remember anyway. Um, hold on a moment." She darted upstairs, returning after a minute with a blue box, small enough to fit snugly in his palm. "Merry belated Christmas, happy early birthday."

Focusing on the Christmas part, Jim flipped open the lid, revealing a powered-off, cube-shaped silver projector. Flicking the tiny switch on the side started a slideshow. First, Aurelan and Sam holding the newborn twins, followed by Aurelan holding the newborn Jane. More pictures flashed by, depicting the aging of all three kids.

"It's not much, but I figured you'd like a little window into the past you missed."

Jim grinned, pausing it on a picture of a two-year-old Jane holding a tea party with some dolls. "It's perfect, Aurelan."

Maybe, just maybe, he could do this.


	4. Chapter 4

Sam stood on the porch, still stunned by his wife's actions. While Aurelan was normally a calm, sensible woman, she was given to bursts of extreme passion, especially in situations involving anger, but _never_ had she gotten physical. Sure, the slap had been light, and his cheek had stopped stinging in mere moments, but the fact remained that his gentle, warmhearted wife had _slapped_ him. Without hesitation or regret. Over a man she barely knew.

Why?

Jim was just a kid who had won over the Federation with a famous last name, a pretty face and two lucky acts of heroism. Just following in his father's footsteps like any suck-up son, soaking in the attention he got as the son of a tragic hero. During the snippets of interviews Sam had stumbled upon during channel-surfing, he always plastered on a smile so impossibly fake he couldn't believe anyone fell for it. He shifted whenever Dad was mentioned, responding to those comments with a grief-stricken humbleness that disgusted Sam – always the poster boy, with perfect responses that triggered appropriate emotions in the common crowd: Pity for his loss, pride in his accomplishments, stuff like that. It drove Sam up the wall, watching them fall for what was clearly just a routine.

Jim was fake. He lived only for the attention being George Kirk's son brought him. He always had, whether he got it by being a whiny, intelligent little brat, or Starfleet's perfect captain.

Not to mention his actions after he'd been sent to Tarsus IV. How _dare_ he blame the complete lack of communication on Sam and Mom?

The faint sound of laughter tore him from his thoughts. He heard Aurelan's musical tones, the boys' raucous crows, and Mom's hearty chuckles, joined by two unfamiliar laughs he assumed belonged to Jim and Doctor McCoy. For a brief moment, he wondered why his own brother's laugh wasn't the slightest bit familiar, then shoved the thought away. His family was having fun without him. He was missing the grins on his nine-year-old sons' ever-changing faces, missing quality moments with his wife, and while aging hopefully wouldn't be a problem for a few decades yet, he was missing precious moments with his mother, moments he'd lost with his father. Because of Jim.

 _"Now, get rid of your attitude and then come to dinner."_

He would just ignore Jim. Tolerate his presence, if he had to. For his family. Taking a deep breath, he went inside, pausing in the living room as he began to make out the conversation.

"…and then this puffball with legs leaps at Bones, and he screams like a little girl. It's literally just like a tribble with legs, and he is _freaking out_ about it-"

"It didn't have a face, Jim! You can't tell me that's natural."

"Tribbles don't have faces, and you love them."

"They don't have legs, either."

"So?"

Aurelan cut in. "Do you two always argue like this?"

"No, we do _not._ "

"You should see him and Spock."

As enraged spluttering and more laughter erupted in the dining room, Sam stepped inside.

-LLAP-

Jim smirked at Bones, enjoying his red-faced spluttering. Until Henry spoke.

"Dad, Uncle Jimmy tells the _best_ stories!"

Jim's good mood vanished. The boys and Aurelan were great; Mom was as tolerable as any protective parent. Even the memories this house brought were tolerable, so long as he wasn't alone with his thoughts. At least, that's what about two hours of experience had proved. But he didn't need any experience to know that Sam would ruin it all.

"I'm sure he does, Henry," Sam replied. His voice sounded neutral, so Jim risked a glance at his brother, knowing his nerves were showing in his expression.

Sam ignored him.

Jim dropped his gaze instantly, cursing the tiny ray of hope that had awoken within him. Of _course_ Sam was going to ignore him – he'd been successfully doing it since Jim left for Tarsus IV. He wasn't a sunny little kid anymore, damn it, he was an adult who knew how vicious the universe was.

Didn't stop rejection from hurting. He'd heard Bones say it hurt just like a physical wound, as far as the brain's chemical reaction went. At least, he thought that was what Bones had said – he'd been shifting in and out of consciousness for a few days at that point in time.

He picked up his fork and began arbitrarily arranging his remaining peas, barely noticing Bones glare at Sam, and Aurelan gesturing for him to sit beside the boys. "Jim was just telling us stories of his away missions."

"The few that haven't turned into near-death situations, anyway," Bones commented.

Jim felt rather than saw his Mom's searching stare. "And just _how many_ away missions have turned into near-death situations for Jim?"

Bones leaned away from her. "Jim, care to answer that? Jim?" he repeated when Jim didn't react.

He forced himself to shrug. "A lot."

Of course Sam couldn't resist that. "How? Being an idiot?" he snorted.

Bones shifted back towards Jim. "By being a selfless captain."

Sam's voice dripped with contempt. "Just like Dad, I assume?"

Fury sparked inside Jim, lifting his head to glare at Sam. "Don't."

"Don't what, tell the truth?" Sam shot back.

"Don't _compare me_ to _him_."

"Why? It's what you always wanted."

"It was _never-_ "

"Boys," Mom snapped, her gaze glittering with concern. "Not now."

Aurelan was ushering the twins out of the room, ignoring their protests. Jim grabbed his plate and started to follow them, stating "I'm done anyway."

"Always running," Sam sneered.

 _"I just don't want my brother to go."_

Jim whirled around. " _You_ ran away first! You _running_ nearly got me killed!"

Sam stood, dwarfing Jim in both height and muscle. " _You_ nearly got _yourself_ killed by being an idiot. No one in their right mind drives a three-hundred-year-old car off a cliff."

Jim fought not to back away from Sam's intimidating bulk. "I was _trying_ to please _you_ , like any little brother would."

"Oh, come on, like I'll fall for that."

" _You_ said I was too good, so I acted out."

Sam hesitated for a moment, searching for a comeback. "Well, that was stupid."

Jim's fury died as rapidly as it had come, replaced by the familiar heartbreak of miserably failing at being Sam's little brother. He found himself backing up a step, turning his head away from Sam. "I never meant to run," he whispered.

"Like hell you didn't," Sam growled, following Jim. Instinctively, Jim flinched away.

"Hey!" Bones snapped, suddenly standing between the brothers. "Back off, _now_."

Sam crossed his arms. "What, Jim can't defend himself?"

"Sam!" Mom hissed. "Show your brother some respect."

"Why? He hasn't earned it."

" _You're_ the one unworthy of respect!"

 _This isn't going anywhere but downhill._

Without another word, Jim spun around and retreated to the guest room.

-LLAP-

Jim moved quickly, vanishing upstairs almost before Leonard could blink. He cursed silently, glaring up at Sam with a wrath fueled by the need to protect the kid from anything and everything – even, apparently, his own flesh-and-blood brother.

"Damn it, he was _relaxing_ ," Leonard snapped.

"So?" Sam snorted.

 _Because his past – including you – has him so freaking traumatized that he sees threats and hidden messages every moment his nightmares and memories finally stop plaguing him. Because he knows the agony of rejection and wants to avoid it. Because he doesn't open up to people so he doesn't get hurt again. Because he spends every moment waiting for his past to finally catch up to him and catch his crew in the middle. Because a million reasons no nearly-thirty-one-year-old should know anything about._

Leonard said none of that. He simply shoved past Sam, leaving him to Winona's wrath, and headed to the guest room. He found Jim huddled on the bed, pressed into the corner, holding his PADD in one hand while he silently contemplated the window.

"Wondering where to hide?"

Jim sighed. "Wondering if Scotty would help me sneak away."

"That's not gonna work, kid. You leave now, you lose Sam forever," Leonard pointed out gently.

"I don't care," Jim mumbled.

"Yes, you do, whether you realize it or not, which I think you do."

Jim dropped his head between his knees. "I know," he breathed, so quiet Leonard could barely make out the words. "I wish I didn't."

Leonard knew that was coming - he'd have to be blind not to notice Jim's behavior. While he was normally unmovable when faced with conflict, he instantly backed away from Sam. He had an incredible poker face when it really counted, but in front of Sam, every emotion showed. He was normally tense, but around Sam, it seemed like he was waiting for physical retaliation.

Leonard knew the stories of Jim's childhood. He'd heard Jim's descriptions, his screams as he woke from nightmares, his fever-induced mumblings. They painted an ugly picture, one that sparked a rage in him every time he thought of it. But being where it had happened, seeing Jim act like he was the defenseless little boy again, standing by as Jim wrestled with every demon he had ever had, his expression all the while that of a little kid desperate for hope but expecting terror and heartbreak…

It killed him. Every single second of it. It tore him up inside, and he could only put on a strong front for Jim's sake. He wanted to cry the tears Jim wouldn't, but he held it in. He wanted to beat the crap out of Sam, but he refrained. It was the downside of being the protective older brother – he felt everything Jim did, wanted to protect him from all of it, but he simply couldn't, because as much as it hurt him, that pain was how Jim grew as a person. No pain, no gain, as the old saying went.

He was being confronted with some of the very things that had started his psychological downward spiral, and all he could do was push Jim into it and brace him as he fell, headed straight for rock bottom.

"Is this what it was like when you were a kid?" Leonard asked quietly.

"You'll have to be more specific," Jim said drily.

He searched for a way to phrase the sentiment. "The way you… back away from Sam, like you're just waiting for him to hit you for speaking out."

His heart sank as Jim nodded reluctantly. "Sam never hit me, but he never defended me, either. If Frank got into one of his rages, he just went anywhere but here. And _he_ says _I_ always run," Jim tacked on bitterly.

"Well, he was probably just protecting himself," Leonard defended feebly. Yes, they had only been kids, but it was a big brother's duty to care for his younger siblings.

Jim snorted. "No, Frank never would have touched him. Mom always bought the stories we told her about my injuries, but if her precious Sammy had so much as one questionable bruise, Frank would've been gone in an instant."

"You're her precious Jimmy now," Leonard pointed out.

Jim's eyebrow rose. "Never say that again."

"Agreed."

Jim reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a little cube, looking at it with an unfocused gaze.

"What's that?" Leonard asked.

His thumb drifted over the switch, and pictures flickered to life – muddy twins, Jane napping on Aurelan's lap, Peter grinning from beside a trophy... "The reason I didn't call Scotty."

Longing shimmered in Jim's eyes, both old and new. Leonard couldn't help a flicker of a smile, realizing the new longing was for Aurelan and the kids. He pretended to be tough, but the soft part of him he always tried to hide had already fallen for the four of them.

"Go back downstairs," Leonard suggested. "You were happy with Aurelan and the boys."

Jim shook his head. "They just saw… that. I don't feel so hot, anyway."

Leonard instantly reached down to fish his tricorder out of his medkit. Jim rolled his eyes. "Not that bad, Bones. I probably just need a nap."

Reluctantly, Leonard put the tricorder away. "Fine. But if you start to feel even the _tiniest_ bit worse-"

Jim cut him off, meeting his gaze with forced sincerity. "I'm fine, Bones."

 _Yeah, I've heard that one before. Normally right before you nearly die._


	5. Chapter 5

Unusually, Jim slept through the night. Leonard wanted to feel relieved, but he only felt suspicious. He couldn't escape nightmares when he knew he was safe aboard the _Enterprise_ – why wouldn't he have them here, in the same house he'd been abused in? It just didn't fit with everything Leonard knew about Jim's psyche. The only answer he could come up with was that Jim was sicker than he'd let on yesterday. There was no way Leonard could check, though, not without waking Jim up, and the kid would need all the sleep he could get.

Footsteps descending the stairs pulled him from his thoughts. Glancing up from where he leaned against the counter, sipping a fresh cup of delicious coffee, he saw Aurelan step into the kitchen. She yawned, her hands tucked in the pockets of a fluffy blue robe. "Morning," Leonard greeted.

"Morning," Aurelan replied, glancing at the clock. "I thought you'd sleep later."

Leonard glanced regretfully at the time: 7:08. "Yeah, so did I. But I tend not to sleep well when I'm worrying about Jim."

Aurelan's head tilted slightly, concern dawning in her expression. "Is he ok?"

He shrugged. "Said he didn't feel good last night. He also said he just needed to sleep it off, but Jim has an amazing talent for understatement when it comes to his own illnesses and injuries. There was one time when he was flung into the wall as the _Enterprise_ was attacked, and the resulting broken ribs caused minor internal bleeding, but he just brushed it off and only got to medbay a few hours later when he passed out on the bridge and Carol commed me. To this day, I don't know if that was stubbornness or a high tolerance for pain."

"Wow," Aurelan murmured. "He must be very dedicated to his crew."

Leonard glanced in the direction of their room. "He never hesitates. Whatever it takes to protect us, he does it."

"He sounds like a wonderful captain."

"Only a fool would deny that he's Starfleet's best. But his penchant for self-sacrifice goes beyond a captain's duties, and while that can be touching, it's also…" He paused, searching for the right word to express his feelings about Jim's constant disappearances and subsequent time spent in medbay. "…vexing."

Aurelan flashed a sympathetic smile. "The boys are always fighting with bullies. I know a few bruises and sprains are probably nothing compared to Jim's situations, but I do get the feeling."

"Proud but irritated?"

She chuckled. "Yeah."

Leonard swallowed the last drops of his coffee. "Well, at least we know we raised 'em _right_."

Her eyebrow rose. "Well, it's the right wording for me, but you?"

He shrugged. "When I met him, he was an arrogant idiot without a care in the world. Now, he knows the meaning of responsibility, of family, of all of those types of adult concepts people withhealthy childhoods take for granted. The journey there felt pretty much like raising a kid _,_ even _–_ no, especially the part about your work never being done."

"Sam was the same way. We went to high school together, and he was one of the insufferable bullies my sons are always getting into fist-fights with today. I hated him. We ended up going to the same college, and one day I accidentally overheard him getting chewed out by one of his friends for letting a freshman go. I interrupted them and saved Sam from a beating – not that he'll admit that – and after that, we spent more time together and he started to change."

"So they're more alike than they realize," Leonard surmised. "We could use that."

"How?" Aurelan asked, beginning to make herself some toast.

"I dunno."

She sighed. "Men."

"You know, women across the galaxy seem to share that sentiment."

"I wonder why."

"Beats me."

If she hadn't been in the midst of spreading peanut butter on her toast, Aurelan probably would have facepalmed in affection and exasperation. As it was, she just rolled her eyes with an exasperated smirk. Leonard grinned and refilled his cup, shifting his weight to his own feet instead of the counter. "I'm gonna go check on Jim."

"You're not gonna let him sleep?"

"As weird as it seems, I'm suspicious of a quietly sleeping Jim. He's never out cold unless he's injured, sick, or drugged, and even then it's hard to keep him still."

"I live with twin nine-year-old boys – I know the 'silence is suspicious' concept," Aurelan pointed out wearily but affectionately.

Leonard let out a sympathetic chuckle, thinking of the trouble Sulu and Chekov could get in to. The young pilot had quickly taken the even younger genius under his wing, and after mere weeks, they'd turned into the ship's pranksters. They knew their limits, keeping the pranks in noncritical areas like the mess hall and the rec room, and small enough to be harmless but intricate enough to be annoying yet funny. Their antics had been sporadic and half-hearted at first, but as the crew's time in space dragged on between disaster after disaster and morale crept ever lower, their pranks had become a source of much-needed laughter. No one ever scolded them – Leonard even suspected Jim had helped with some of the harder-to-pull-off ones, which typically took place when crew morale was at its lowest.

Taking his refilled cup of coffee, Leonard climbed the stairs and slipped into their room. Jim was still sprawled on the mattress beside the wall, his back to the door, apparently dead to the world. Leonard hesitated. If Jim really was asleep, it might be best to leave him be. But then, if he was asleep because he was ill…

"Stop starin' at me," Jim mumbled.

Leonard jumped, drops of coffee nearly jumping out of his cup. "Damn it, Jim, I've told you not to do that."

"But scaring the crap out of you is fun," Jim complained. Slowly, he rolled over, turning a bleary blue gaze on Leonard that didn't match his grin. Rather, his grin didn't match his eyes – a grin could be faked; tired eyes, not so easily.

"You still feel like crap, don't you?"

Jim's grin wilted. "I'm fine," he answered unconvincingly.

Leonard set his coffee down on the nightstand and sat on the bed beside Jim, picking up his tricorder. With the hand that hadn't been holding his coffee, he felt Jim's forehead but couldn't discern a trace of fever. Ignoring Jim's half-hearted protests, he ran the medical tricorder over him, squinting at it as if that could change the readings.

"You're fine."

Jim pushed the tricorder away. "I _told_ you."

"Which means you either lied about feeling sick so I wouldn't make you go back downstairs, or whatever you feel is psychosomatic."

"I slept it off, just like I said I would," Jim insisted. Leonard narrowed his eyes at Jim, trusting him as much as he always did when it came to his medical care: He didn't.

"Jim, what's wrong?" he pressed, gently but firmly.

He rolled back over to face the wall, curling in on himself, and remained stubbornly silent. Leonard let out a silent sigh and rested a hand on Jim's shoulder, almost wincing as Jim met the contact with an instinctive flinch. After realizing it was just Leonard and relaxing, though, Jim leaned into the contact, letting himself accept the silent comfort. Leonard didn't break the silence for a minute, only wishing he could see Jim's face instead of it being hidden under his arm.

"Aurelan's downstairs," he finally murmured. "And the boys'll probably be awake soon. You could eat breakfast in peace now, and maybe play with them outside later."

Jim didn't move. "Ok. Just… give me a minute."

Leonard patted Jim's shoulder and got up, going over to Jim's unopened suitcase and tugging a plain green shirt and blue jeans from the mess within. As he chucked them towards the bed, where they landed on top of Jim, the only protest he got was a muffled "Oi."

"The peace won't last long. Just sayin'."

"Stop being a mother hen."

"It's in my blood, Jim, especially where a certain captain is concerned. Don't take too long, all right?"

"Fine."

Deciding to ignore the petulance in Jim's voice, Leonard picked up his coffee and returned to the kitchen. _The smell of scrambled eggs might motivate him…_

Aurelan was sitting at the end of the table, a plate and a glass of milk in front of her, toast in one hand and a paperback book in the other. Seeing Leonard, she set the book down, her eyes searching the area behind him for a moment before her eyebrows furrowed in concern.

"He's just being stubborn," Leonard told her, assuming she was looking for Jim. "He'll be down in a few minutes, once he smells my scrambled eggs."

"You cook?"

"A bit," Leonard replied, beginning to root through the cupboards for supplies. Aurelan got up to help. "There's not much opportunity to cook on a starship, but during the first few months Jim spent recovering after Khan, it was easier for him to keep down homecooked meals instead of that hospital crap, so I ended up doing a lot of cooking. When Uhura or Sulu weren't there to cook, anyway."

"They're other senior crewmembers, right?" Aurelan checked.

Leonard nodded, cracking open a couple eggs. "Sulu is the pilot. Uhura is the chief communications officer, and Spock's fiancé."

"So the senior crew is pretty close?"

"Yeah. We're like a dysfunctional family, basically. Very, very, _very_ dysfunctional."

Aurelan laughed. "It can't be that bad."

"Oh, it's not bad. We're just not the kind of people that would usually bond like we have. I mean, our leader has a list of psychological issues a mile long, our first officer is a hybrid who isn't really accepted by the majority of either species he's part of, our navigator is just barely old enough to drink alcohol, I hate space travel… I could go on, but you get the idea. Lots of interesting personalities running Starfleet's flagship."

Aurelan raised her eyebrow. "I think spending a day onboard the _Enterprise_ would be an interesting experience."

"That would be an understatement," Jim spoke up, stepping into the kitchen. As Aurelan and Leonard glanced up in faint surprise, he shrugged and said "What? I smelled scrambled eggs."

 _Knew it_ , Leonard thought triumphantly. Out loud, he said "Pour yourself a drink if you want. They'll be done soon."

Jim shuffled to the fridge, one arm wrapped around his stomach like it was hurting. "So, why are you guys talking about my ship?"

Aurelan returned to her own breakfast. "I was just learning about you and your crew's quirks."

Jim narrowed his eyes suspiciously at Leonard. "What did you tell her?"

"That's for us to know and you to find out," Leonard answered mysteriously.

"Come on, Bones," Jim pleaded.

"Why do you call him that?" Aurelan asked curiously.

Jim shrugged, sitting beside Aurelan with a glass of water. "It was one of the first things he said to me. 'All I got left is my bones.' Plus, he's a doctor. So it kind of stuck."

"For you," Leonard muttered.

"You respond to it, don't you?" Jim retorted cheekily.

"Oh, shut up. Eat your eggs," Leonard ordered, placing a full plate in front of him. Surprisingly, Jim did shut up, picking up a bit of scrambled eggs on his fork. After contemplating the child-sized bite for a moment, he daintily picked it off, swallowing carefully. One hand remained protectively near his stomach. As he prepared his own serving and sat down next to Jim, Leonard watched him closely, but it was Aurelan who spoke up first.

"Do you feel all right, Jim?"

"Yeah," Jim answered, just the slightest bit too quickly. "Why?"

"Because that's the same way Sam eats when he's feeling nauseous."

Jim set the fork down, avoiding her gaze. "I'm fine."

Even though he'd just done it a few minutes ago, Leonard checked Jim's temperature with a hand on his forehead. Maybe a touch warm, but he could be imagining it. He shifted his hand to check Jim's pulse, which was definitely slightly fast, but that could just be nerves – those were perfectly understandable given Jim's situation. A barely half-eaten plate of scrambled eggs, though, seemed to be confirmation of nausea – Jim would normally devour them. Or any food put in front of him, really.

"You are getting sick, aren't you?" Leonard murmured.

Jim sighed, putting his head in his hands. "If I admit it, do I get to go back to the ship?"

"Again with running away."

Jim tensed, almost appearing to shrink in on himself. Aurelan rested a gentle hand on his back, pointedly giving her husband the cold shoulder. Leonard stood up and turned to the elder Kirk brother, schooling his expression into one of cool collectedness.

"Can I talk to you? Outside."

"I'm sure you could," Sam answered coldly.

" _I_ am the condescending sarcastic one, not you," Leonard shot back. "Now, let's go outside."

"You don't get to give me orders in my own house."

"Sam, go," Aurelan cut in, her tone inviting no argument. With an irritated huff, Sam spun around, and he and Leonard headed outside. The sun was only just beginning to rise, turning the edge of the inky black, star-dotted sky a pale blue. A brisk breeze blew across the countryside, a collection of clouds beginning to creep over the sky from the north.

"What do you want?" Sam demanded.

"Stop kicking him while he's down," Leonard snapped. "You could at least _act_ like your brother is a human being."

"He could have at least _acted_ like we were brothers," Sam retorted.

"He tried! He _is_ trying. But aside from the textbook definition, I don't think he knew what the word 'brother' meant until he was an adult. Do you even know what it means?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Boys who were born to or adopted by the same parents."

"That's the _textbook definition._ Being brothers means you take care of each other and love each other _no matter what._ Being the older brother means you guide your little brother and show him the world even as you do everything possible to protect him from it."

"I _did_ that."

"Really? Did Jim ever look at you like you were his whole world? Did you ever take a punch for him? Did you ever throw a punch for him? I'm not talking just physical ones, either. Because I have. I've accidentally eaten poisonous food while making sure it was safe for him. I've broken the 'do no harm' part of being a doctor to help and protect him. I've come damn close to losing my job for him. I know what it feels like to see his eyes wide with admiration, see him grinning like a happy puppy, and realize he was doing that because of _me_. Aside from bringing him back from the brink of death, there's no better feeling in the world. Do you know what that feels like?"

Sam crossed his arms, glaring at Leonard. "So you're saying you're more his brother than I am?"

"No," Leonard replied instantly. Then he backtracked. "Actually, maybe I am. But that's exactly my point. I know that you don't have to be blood relatives to be brothers, but I do believe that if you are blood relatives, you damn well better be as close or closer brothers than unrelated men. _You_ should be the one who wouldn't hesitate to do anything for Jim, while _I_ should be allowed to have my reservations, and yet that isn't happening here. I've been through a lot with the kid, but you spent thirteen years of your childhood with him, surviving losing your father and living with an abusive stepfather together – that should've formed a bond that never breaks. And yet I got to meet a womanizing, alcoholic twenty-three-year-old with no sense of personal relationships and no sense of self-preservation who's all alone and completely lost in the universe. For ages, I asked myself how he turned out like that. Somehow, though, despite that, he still had a genius-level IQ and a heart of gold. After learning about this side of him, the question changed to _why._ So, Sam, tell me: Why is he so messed up psychologically?"

Sam shrugged indifferently. "I don't know. Frank, I guess."

"He's the source, yes – one of them, at least. Now, tell me this: Who could have _helped_ _prevent_ Jim's psychological issues, and how could they have done that?"

Sam opened his mouth, said nothing, and closed it again.

"Now mull that over a bit before you go around accusing Jim of being the bad brother."

He left Sam on the porch, a dumbfounded expression on his face.

* * *

A/N: I hope you're liking reading the Bones and Aurelan bonding as much I'm loving writing it. And I'm hoping to increase the kids' roles soon, because I too want to see Jim and Bones interacting with them. Writing them will prove... interesting, though, because I don't know all that much about kids. So here's hoping that I get it right.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: This blizzard has done wonders for my inspiration and given me plenty of time to write (not that I do much anyway, but hey, I'm not stuck at school for half the day and I don't have to bother going to bed before midnight, because, of course, the times I should be sleeping are when I do my best writing). Tomorrow's a snow day (although I guess, it being after midnight, it's technically already Monday), and here's hoping Tuesday's one too, so hopefully I'll finish another chapter before I have to go back and writing slows down again (because this semester's classes will actually give me a lot of homework, according to friends who have already taken them... Sigh.).

* * *

Aurelan lightly rubbed Jim's back, her hand moving in small circles. His muscles remained tense, his face hidden. She kept rubbing, and slowly he leaned towards her, allowing himself to take comfort from her quiet presence. She smoothed his pillow-ruffled hair, a small part of her reveling in this expression of trust despite the situation surrounding it. An idea popped into her head.

"Jim, go put on a jacket and some shoes," she told him.

He straightened up, turning a dubious blue gaze on her. "Why?"

"Trust me," Aurelan urged. Taking his hand, she tugged him to his feet and led him upstairs. Leaving him outside his room, she retreated to her own to get dressed, finding herself only semi-surprised when she found Jim waiting outside of his room, his hands tucked in the pockets of a thick, uniform gold coat.

"You really like being a captain, don't you?"

Jim glanced down at his coat and shrugged. "Getting my ship is one of the best things that ever happened to me."

Aurelan freed one of his hands from its pocket and held it, gently guiding him into the kitchen. "Personally, I find it difficult enough to care for a family of seven, no matter how much I love them."

The corner of Jim's mouth twitched wryly upwards. "I never said it was easy, leading a crew of over 1,100 people. It's probably the hardest thing I've ever done, which is saying something considering some of the things I've done."

Aurelan passed her hand through the holographic section of wall over the back door. Sam had put it up years ago to cover the falling apart door, insisting he would fix the door and remove the faux wall, but he never seemed to get around to it. "Like what? If you don't mind telling me," she added.

Jim hesitated for a moment, glancing back curiously at the faux wall – it was invisible from outside. "I don't think you want to know."

Once outside, Aurelan turned away from the rising sun and set off across the grounds. "If you think I won't have the stomach for it, I'm stronger than I look."

"Trust me, I learned long ago not to underestimate women, no matter how pretty or gentle they may look," Jim assured her in the tone of someone who had fallen for that trap too many times.

Aurelan chuckled. "I would love to hear those stories."

"I don't know what stories you're talking about," Jim mumbled.

"Sure you don't," Aurelan replied teasingly. "So, you're a young man in charge of hundreds of people, all of you stuck onboard a single ship in the middle of space. Fairly stressful, I'm assuming? A lot more stressful than managing a single household."

"Yeah," Jim agreed.

After a few minutes of walking, Aurelan paused at the bottom of a hill, turning around to face Jim. "You must need some alone time, maybe somewhere people know not to come find you. Am I right?"

Jim nodded.

"Getting away is one way you cope when too much is going on. You just curl up and enjoy the silence."

"Yes… Is this going somewhere?"

In response, she led him over the hill. Behind it grew a magnificent weeping willow, genetically engineered to be in full-leaf even in the dead of winter. Its branches swept down, many reaching to the ground, providing a natural shield from the world. Nudging some branches out of the way, she ducked into its middle, where they stood in a small clearing. An outdoor couch adorned by pale blue cushions, a couple silver pillows, and a brown blanket stood against the trunk.

"This is my quiet spot," she told him, gesturing at the couch. "Winona uses it sometimes, too. The family knows not to bother anyone who's in here. If and when Sam gets on your nerves, or you need some time to collect yourself, feel free to come here. I know the whole tree thing is probably a bit girly, but-"

"It's fine," Jim told her. He smiled softly, nothing grand, but it was genuine and sweet. His eyes were trained on the sky visible through gaps in the upper branches. "Bones'll be happy to know I'm on a couch instead of curled up in a cramped corner beneath Engineering."

Aurelan smiled at his acceptance, even as she felt her heart bleed for him. He was so sweet and funny, and yet she got the feeling that this was a hidden part of him, buried under decades of hardships that had built walls of steel around his sensitive heart. He lived in a shell of coarser personality traits meant to disguise the gentle boy he probably had once been. And he had the act so perfected that even his own brother believed it – and hated him for it.

"I know we've only known each other since yesterday afternoon, but if you ever need to talk someone that's neither your mother nor a member of your crew, I'm here."

Jim glanced down at their hands, which hadn't let go of each other since she had taken his outside of his bedroom door. "I know," he whispered after a moment.

She squeezed his hand gently before finally letting go. "Do you want me to tell Leonard where you are?"

He looked at the couch, then back at the sky. "Give me like an hour? He'll go into full mother-hen-doctor mode if he knows I'm sick _and_ outside on a cold day."

Aurelan though fleetingly of the way she could get with her kids, wondering how much more protective Leonard would be of Jim, all things considered. "All right. But, really, if you do start feeling really sick-"

"I'll come inside, I promise. Anything else you want to be concerned about… sis?" Jim asked, his voice quiet as he tried out the nickname.

 _Sis._ The nickname sounded good… sounded right. "Not that I can think of, baby bro."

Jim beamed at her, and her heart glowed in response.

-LLAP-

Winona sat on her bed and looked out her bedroom window, watching Aurelan guide Jim in the direction of her weeping willow and come back alone, mild surprise flickering through her. That willow had been Sam's first anniversary present to Aurelan, and it was almost sacred to the young woman. She rarely took anyone to it with the intention of letting them stay underneath it – letting Jim do that was akin to sharing a piece of her soul with him. Yet she hadn't even hesitated, and Winona could've sworn she saw a smile on her face as she returned, a slight bounce in her step.

 _Aurelan did that for Jim faster than either Sam or I did._

She'd known Jim wouldn't have a problem befriending her – Aurelan just had one of those universally likeable personalities. But she had been concerned that Sam would drive a wedge between them purely because of his respective relationships to the two. Apparently, she needn't have worried about that – rather, it was Jim accidentally dividing Aurelan and Sam that she should worry about. Aurelan was the best thing that had ever happened to her firstborn, followed by their three kids. If Aurelan left Sam and took the kids with her…

But she was getting ahead of herself. It hadn't yet been 24 hours – it was far too early for such drastic pessimism. But she knew from personal experience that it only took a split second for a happy family to be brutally destroyed. Aurelan knew it, too, from when her parents had died in a shuttle crash when she was thirteen. While she knew this week would kill neither Sam nor Jim, one word too far, one blow too many… It could end any hope of Jim becoming an important part of a big, happy Kirk family.

 _Stop thinking like that,_ she scolded herself. _Sam will come around, and in the meantime, Jim is a courageous man. He wants this, so he won't back down easily._

She glanced around her room. In layout, it wasn't much different from the guest room, except hers had an adjoining bathroom and a larger closet. The walls had been painted a pale gold. The bed was queen-sized, also shoved into the corner, with red-and-gold striped sheets and pillows. Sitting beside it was a large mahogany nightstand, adorned by a plethora of pictures of her family – her parents, George, Sam, Aurelan, the kids, and Jim. It was on one of these pictures that her eyes rested – Winona sat on a stool, her belly round with the unborn Jim, a four-year-old Sam sitting on her lap, fast asleep; George stood beside them, one arm wrapped around her, a broad grin lighting up his electric blue eyes.

It was the closest thing she had to a picture of the four of them together. George had died only a month later, and Jim and Sam were rarely featured in the same picture. She had no pictures of Jim between ages thirteen and 29, discounting his uniform photo – if he had any others from that time frame, he hadn't shared them with her; even the one on the shelf downstairs was from only a few months ago. Maybe she could ask McCoy…

A tiny knock on the door tugged her out of her thoughts. "Grandma?"

She smiled – if Jane was up, she must be feeling better. "Come in, sweetie," she called.

The door creaked open just wide enough for the little girl to slip inside. Closing it behind her, Jane turned to the bed and promptly crawled onto Winona's lap. Winona leaned back against the wall, wrapping one arm around her granddaughter and fingercombing Jane's hair with her other hand.

"You must be feeling better," Winona observed.

Jane nodded, absently sticking her thumb in her mouth. Realizing what she was doing, she abruptly took it out and wiped it on her pink nightgown. "Uncle Jim's friend made me better."

"He's a doctor – that's what they do."

Jane looked up at her with wide blue eyes. "Cool."

"I'm sure Doctor McCoy would agree with you."

"Can he make Daddy and Uncle Jim better?"

 _Are they sick?_ "What?"

"They were yelling at each other yesterday," Jane informed her.

"That takes a different kind of doctor, sweetie," Winona explained. "Doctor McCoy fixes things like the flu and sprained ankles."

"Oh." Distress began to gleam in her little face. "Does that mean they won't stop yelling at each other?"

"No," Winona reassured her hurriedly. "With some help from the rest of us, they'll learn to get along."

"Oh," Jane said again. Beginning to suck her thumb again, she stared out the window for a second. Then, taking her thumb out of her mouth, she asked "Would a tea party help? It helps my stuffed animals stop arguing."

Winona couldn't hold back a chuckle. "Maybe you could try that later this week, sweetie."

"Ok," she agreed cheerfully. "I'm hungry."

"I think your mom is already downstairs. How about you go down now, and I'll meet you in a few minutes?"

"Ok," she said, sliding off Winona's lap and skipping out of the room. Grinning and shaking her head at the drastic change of subject, Winona stood and began to change.

Jane did have a point, though, in her own six-year-old-mentality way. Maybe Jim and Sam just needed to sit down – with Winona, Aurelan, or McCoy there – and talk it out. So far, their interactions had consisted of Sam walking in on Jim and yelling at them. Perhaps an arranged time and a neutral setting, so they could both go in prepared and level-headed on even ground? It wasn't much, but it was more of a plan than anyone had come up with so far.

She went downstairs and pulled McCoy aside to work out the details.

* * *

A/N: I have basically no experience with kids, so sorry if Jane wasn't acting like a typical six-year-old...


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Three chapters written and posted in less than a week - I am loving this blizzard.

* * *

"Come on, Bones, _please_ come," Jim pleaded.

Leonard bit the inside of his cheek upon hearing the desperation in Jim's voice. It was about noon, and he and Jim stood in the living room. Winona had told him of her idea, and they had decided on a little restaurant Winona used to take Jim and Sam to when they were little, hoping the shared memory would spark something in them. Sam and Jim had both agreed, but Leonard had waited until now to tell Jim he wasn't going. The revelation hadn't gone over well with Jim.

Leonard rested his hand on Jim's shoulder. "Not this time, kid."

Jim shrugged him off, edging back. "Why?" he asked, his quiet, plaintive voice breaking Leonard's heart. Jim Kirk was strong in every sense of the word when facing assassins, hunting parties, Romulans, illness, and every other thing he'd ever had to fight over his short lifetime – yet, when faced with his own brother, he turned into a scared child.

"Because this conversation needs neutral supervision, and the entire crew of the _Enterprise_ knows I'm anything but neutral when you're hurting."

"But-"

"Jim, if I'm there, some unconscious part of him will feel threatened by my presence because, so far, our interactions have been nothing but antagonistic, and that'll just make everything worse. Both of you feel safe around both Aurelan and Winona, though, so he'll hopefully be calmer. I think."

Jim narrowed his eyes. "You _think_?"

Leonard shrugged. "I'm a doctor, not a psychologist."

"So you're not going."

Jim looked away as he said it, but not before Leonard caught the flash of betrayal in his eyes, even as his voice deadpanned.

Biting back a sigh, Leonard pulled Jim into a tight hug that he didn't reciprocate. "Come on, Jim. It's not the end of the world."

Jim just wriggled free, turning towards his mother. She hovered on the edge of the living room near the front door, waiting patiently for Jim to be ready to go. Sam and Aurelan had left a few minutes ago in their own car, after Aurelan had thoroughly lectured Leonard on how to take care of the kids, even though they would only be gone for a couple hours tops (but Leonard understood completely and had let her lecture).

"Let's go," he muttered.

"Sweetheart…" Winona started, glancing at Leonard.

He just shook his head. As badly as it hurt Leonard, he knew Jim's anger at him never lasted long. "Go talk to Sam."

Winona followed Jim out the door, leaving Leonard alone in the Kirk house.

Then the boys' voices drifted down from upstairs, where they were yelling at each other over videogames, and Jane toddled downstairs with an armful of stuffed animals and a plastic box. "Do you want to have a tea party?" she asked brightly.

Leonard grinned. "I'd love to."

And so, for a little while, he once again enjoyed being the caretaker of a little girl.

Until Winona came back, barely holding herself together as she gasped something about Jim being in pain.

-LLAP-

The car rolled to a stop outside of a little restaurant, just a few minutes outside of the city. It was essentially a big wooden cube, with the front wall dominated by large windows, which continued halfway down both sides of the building. Bold, bright white letters across the top of the building spelled the name _Good Eats_ , centered above a bright red front door. A digital board on the door stated its hours, with a few glowing reviews scrolling along the bottom. Holographic ads filled the windows immediately next to the door.

"This place? Seriously?" Jim asked as he and Mom got out of the car. Even though he had only been a little kid when he'd last come here, he vividly remembered the disgusting food. His stomach churned at the memory. Or maybe that was the nausea. Either way, hopefully it had improved.

Mom smiled. "Your reactions were funny."

"Mine or Sam's?"

"Both."

Jim rolled his eyes, beginning to shrug off his coat.

"What are you doing?" Mom asked sharply. "Don't take that off."

"We're about to go inside," Jim protested. "It's not even that cold."

She pointedly adjusted her scarf, wrapped securely around her neck even though she was already bundled in a jacket and a thick fur coat. "We're not inside _yet_."

Grumbling, Jim zipped it up again and followed her inside. To the right of the doorway stood a salad bar and the hostess stand. To the left was the dining area, two walls lined by four-person booths with a circular one in the corner. Square faux wood tables were scattered throughout the middle of the room. Only a few tables were occupied. The floor was maroon carpet, the ceiling white wood. It was at one of the booths, near the back of the restaurant, that Sam and Aurelan already sat.

When he hesitated, Mom gently tugged him forward. Jim slid into the window seat, across from Aurelan and diagonal from Sam, and Mom sat beside Jim. After tearing off his coat, Jim reached for a menu, but Aurelan put her hand down it.

"You are eating chicken noodle soup and water," she told him firmly.

Jim glanced longingly at the pictures on the menu cover. "But-"

"Soup and water," Aurelan repeated. "And crackers."

"Fine," he acquiesced grudgingly.

"Good, because I already ordered for you," Aurelan informed him triumphantly.

Sam glanced at him, his gaze unreadable. Mom turned to him in concern. "If you're not feeling well…" she began, pressing a hand against his forehead.

Jim batted it away. "Would you people stop doing that?"

"You feel warm."

He fought to suppress his irritation. "I'm fine."

"Yeah, he doesn't need any more coddling."

Jim jerked his head up. "What do you mean, _more_?"

Sam scoffed. "The world - hell, the galaxy - is all over you for what you've done. You're Starfleet's fricking poster boy."

"You- you think that's _coddling_?"

"You certainly soak up all the attention of all those fans and pretty reporters."

"Pretty re- I have a girlfriend, you idiot. A serious one."

"Oh really?"

"Yes, really."

"What's her name, then?"

Mom cut in. "Lieutenant Carol Marcus. She's the weapons expert on his ship."

"Marcus? As in Admiral Marcus?" Aurelan asked curiously.

"Yeah," Jim replied. A small smile danced across his face. "I didn't know that when we first met, though. She-"

"A dead admiral's daughter? Are you kidding me?"

Jim glared at his brother. He didn't like Marcus much, considering what he'd nearly done to Jim's crew and ship, but he was still Carol's father, so Jim refused to tolerate negative comments about him. "What about her father?" he growled.

"Starfleet's golden captain is dating a dead admiral's daughter. How much attention do you even want?"

"I _love_ her."

"Yeah, right."

A waitress dropped off their drinks and took Mom's order, hurrying as she noticed the way Sam and Jim were glaring at each other.

"All right, then, for the sake of argument, let's say I am doing this for publicity – which I'm not. Why haven't we been in the news at all?"

Sam shrugged. "You like all the attention for yourself?"

 _Well, he's not wrong,_ Jim thought to himself. "You think that's why I do all those interviews? For _attention_?"

"Well, why else-"

"Because _they made me_. You think keeping my ship was easy? I got her after barely three years at the academy. I was barely 26 and I've got a record, even though they sealed it. You think they trusted their flagship to someone like that purely because of one successful, albeit epic, event? I had to _work_ to keep her - plus, showing me off has boosted their precious enrollment rates. And then Khan happened, and they just saw a kid who had been in way over his head, not a captain who had overcome incredible odds. I had just d- _nearly_ _died_ saving Starfleet's collective butts, and they didn't want to let me keep my ship unless I kept doing all those stupid interviews. I was practically a dead man walking and still fighting for my ship."

"So you're not at all like Dad, then."

Confusion lanced through Jim. "I- What?"

"'Dead man walking and still fighting'? _Seriously_?"

 _Damn it, damn it, damn it._ "I'm not trying to be him, that's just what I was."

"Like hell you're not trying to be him."

"I'm not-"

The waitress came back at that moment, carrying their tray of food. Jim shut up, happy to get a break from the argument. He contemplated his soup, drinking some water and taking deep breaths to try to calm his unsettled stomach.

"Oh, just eat the damn soup," Sam snapped.

Glaring at his brother, Jim finally braved a mouthful of soup.

 _Ok, that wasn't so b-_

 _Never mind._

His stomach lurched. "Winona, move," Aurelan ordered after one glance at Jim's face. Mom scrambled, and almost before she was clear of the booth, Jim made a beeline for the small, brown-and-red bathroom. Barely remembering to lock the stall door behind him, he dropped to his knees in front of the toilet and heaved.

 _Why did it have to be puking? Puking_ sucks.

He didn't know how long he knelt there, even after he had finished, because he didn't really feel like moving. Until the door to the bathroom creaked open.

"They sent me to make sure you're alive," Sam said gruffly.

With a sigh, Jim waved his hand in front of the sensor to flush the toilet and stepped out of the stall. "I'm alive," he confirmed stiffly. Brushing past his brother, he started washing his hands. Sam just stayed there, shifting his weight uncomfortably. "Are you gonna leave?"

"They told me not to come out without you."

Jim glanced at the door, part of him wishing he could see through it. "This is some sort of strategy to get us to talk, isn't it?"

"Probably."

 _And they gave me control over when it ends._

Jim turned to face his brother, leaning back against the sink. "So, to sum up what happened out there, you think I'm a narcissistic, attention-seeking fraud?"

Sam nodded. "Basically, yeah."

"So I'm gonna be honest here: I probably am narcissistic and attention-seeking. I will be the first to admit I'm the most attractive genius out there, not to mention Starfleet's best captain. Under good circumstances, I _love_ being the center of attention – for example, when I was officially promoted to captain, I loved having hundreds of people cheer and clap for me. But a fraud? No. I got where I am because of my own efforts. Sure, our father is what made Pike want to recruit me in the first place, but after that, _everything was me_. Dad didn't beat Nero, _I did._ Dad didn't beat Khan, _I did._ Dad didn't become Starfleet's youngest captain, _I did._ I don't live off of Dad's sacrifice, I live _because_ of it. Because of it, I'm alive to be as narcissistic and attention-seeking as I want."

"You should be alive to honor his memory," Sam snapped.

Jim pushed off of the sink. "Like you? I went out and _did something_ for the Kirk family name. What did you do? You stayed at your farm in the middle of nowhere to wallow in grief and anger."

"I don't _wallow_ -"

"Oh yeah? Then why do you hate me? I'm willing to bet it's not because of _me_ , it's because of _Dad_. That's what I call wallowing."

Sam's hand clenched into a fist. After fighting off an instinctive flinch, Jim just rolled his eyes. "Punch your sick little brother in a public bathroom. I'm sure that'll go over well with everyone. Now, I'm gonna go live my life and enjoy some well-earned time with my mom, sister-in-law, nephews, and niece, and _you_ can't stop me."

Jim was turning to leave the bathroom when agony suddenly exploded in his abdomen, spreading to his back. He groaned and clutched blindly at the pain, his legs giving out beneath him.

As the world went black, the last sensation he knew was large hands easing his fall.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: So, the extent of medical knowledge is what I've found on Google, so if I screw anything up, I apologize in advance for being a lazy researcher.

On a side note, _The Finest Hours_ finally came out and I can't wait to see it tomorrow (or this evening, cause once again, it's after midnight). I'm sure Chris Pine is once again gonna wow me with his amazing blue eyes- I mean acting talent. Totally meant his acting talent. (In all seriousness, though, he is a great actor, and I'm excited for another dose of that talent that I haven't already seen a billion times - not that there's anything wrong with watching _Star Trek_ and _Into Darkness_ again and again and again and again and you get the picture - plus several other movies on the side).

* * *

Winona was shaking as she stepped into the house. Leonard looked up from Jane's tea party, instantly getting to his feet and going over to Winona. "What's wrong?" he asked, forcing his voice to be calm even as his heart began to pound, his gut telling him Jim was the source of Winona's distress, because he always was the source of _someone's_ distress, wasn't he?

She fought for breath. "He- Jim- he's in _pain_ -"

 _Crap, crap, crap, I should've known he was gonna go and do something like this. Every damn time he leaves the ship-_

 _Get a grip. You're a doctor, you're supposed to be used to this._

Leonard gripped her shoulders reassuringly. "Hold on a second and _breathe_ ," he said, talking as much to himself as to Winona.

"But-"

"Breathe. Calm down, _then_ tell me." _Even though I really want to know right now._

Winona quickly swiped away a couple escaped tears. "We had just gotten our food, a-and he finally couldn't fight the nausea anymore, so he ran to the bathroom. H-he was in there for a few minutes, so I sent Sam to check on him, and when Sam came out, he said that Jim had c-collapsed."

"Where is he now?"

 _If they sent him to a hospital and they don't know he's allergic to essentially everything-_

But Winona pointed outside. "Car. He's in and out of c-consciousness, but when I started to call an ambulance, h-he started panicking-"

"Because he knows he's allergic to a lot and if the EMTs don't get that memo fast enough, it would just make things worse – you did good. Now, my medkit is in our room next to the nightstand. Go get that, please."

She nodded and hurried upstairs. Telling Jane to stay where she was, Leonard went outside. Aurelan was getting out of her own car, and Leonard called to her to call an ambulance. She nodded and, with a glance at Jim, ducked back into her car to get her phone.

Sam was setting Jim down on his back in the grass, and struggling with it. Jim wasn't fighting him, per se, but he was writhing in agony, and Leonard knew how strong the kid was. He jogged over to Jim's other side to help, pushing him down onto his back while trying not to hurt him.

"Hey, Jim, you've gotta calm down, kid," Leonard urged. Winona jogged outside with his medkit, and Aurelan went to stand beside her.

His eyes fluttered open for a moment. "Bones…?"

"Yeah, kid, I'm right here."

Jim's hand reached out blindly towards his voice. Leonard took it and guided it to his side – where Jim's fist grabbed his shirt in a death grip – in order to leave his own hands free to treat Jim. Sam started to back away, but Leonard shot him a glare, and the elder Kirk brother resumed keeping Jim still, although the writhing had weakened significantly. Leonard reached up to Jim's neck and found a racing pulse; the kid's skin burned with fever.

"Jim, where does it hurt?" Leonard asked, making his voice as clear and steady as he could.

Jim's reply turned into a ragged cough, and Leonard prepared to roll him onto his side, but the cough died, leaving Jim limp and silent apart from ragged breathing. He yanked his medkit open and pulled out the tricorder, but when he waved it over Jim, the readings were perfectly normal.

 _What the hell?_

He tossed the tricorder aside. "That's not working. Sticking to the old-fashioned way, then," he muttered to himself. "Jim, I need you to talk to me. Jim?"

 _Damn it. Don't do this to me. I did_ not _fix you up after all of those away missions just for you to die in your own front yard._

" _Jim_."

"He grabbed here before he collapsed," Sam spoke up, tapping a spot on Jim's upper abdomen. The young captain went rigid under the light touch, his eyes snapping open again.

"So it hurts there?" Leonard checked.

Jim managed a jerky nod. "A-and back."

"I'm gonna look at your abdomen, and it's gonna hurt," Leonard warned him. Barely waiting for another feeble nod, Leonard pushed Jim's shirt up and felt the area Sam had indicated. Jim tried to flinch away, but Sam awkwardly maneuvered himself to hold his legs and torso still at the same time. It was definitely swollen and, apparently, _very_ tender.

Wailing sirens announced the ambulance's arrival. Leonard waved Jim's family back and informed the EMTs of the situation as he helped them load Jim into the back of the ambulance, climbing in behind him.

Leonard ran through Jim's symptoms. _Nausea and vomiting, fever, increased heart rate, swollen and tender abdomen, upper abdominal and back pain…_

Pancreatitis, maybe? He'd need to test the levels of amylase and lipase in Jim's blood to be sure, and probably do some imaging tests. And how severe it was remained to be seen…

-LLAP-

Aurelan watched the ambulance fly away. "Sis" was the only word circling her mind, echoed in Jim's hesitantly happy voice. _I just met him._

Leonard hadn't looked like Jim was dying, though. She thought so, anyway. It had been hard to glimpse his face as he moved Jim, but she hadn't seen desperation, just the normal worry anyone felt when someone they cared about was in pain. In fact, he had moved with the calm confidence of someone who knew exactly how to fix the situation, even if his movements had been tinged by the concern he felt for Jim as a little brother. And if Leonard was able to act that calmly, then Jim would be completely fine.

Unless Leonard was just _really good_ at playing the detached doctor. All those years of being CMO of the _Enterprise_ , he'd probably had plenty of practice.

Winona moved first, beginning to walk to her car. "I'm gonna go to the hospital. Aurelan, do you want to come or stay with the kids?"

Aurelan twisted to look at her house, but instead ended up looking at her husband. He still stood where he'd moved to when the ambulance arrived, his gaze locked on the last place the ambulance had been visible from the house. She could practically see memories flickering through his hazel eyes; his forehead crinkled a bit, the way it did when he was thinking through a complex problem. Her own mind flashed back to the way he'd carried Jim out of the restaurant, holding him close and tight. In the heat of the moment, she hadn't dwelled on it, but in this quiet moment, she would say his body language had bordered on protective. Which meant…

 _He cares. However deep down, however unconsciously… Sam knows Jim is his little brother._

 _So what changed? What made him forget? Was it when Jim left? When he was suddenly all over the news for saving the planet? Or something we don't know about?_

"Aurelan?" Winona repeated.

She started, her mind jerked back to the question at hand. Her husband was emotionally open, and she knew why – should she take this opportunity to drive a few points home? Or should she wait and think it over?

 _Wait. Talk it over Winona – she might know more about this than you do. She probably does, because however much Sam loves you, Winona is his mother._

"Uh, yeah, I'll go to the hospital with you. Sam?"

He blinked, slamming back to reality. "Yes, Aurelan?"

"Make sure the kids know their Uncle Jimmy will be fine, ok? I'll call as soon as we get more news."

"All right."

With almost visible force of will, he turned around and went inside, picking up Leonard's discarded tricorder as he went. Aurelan glanced over to see Winona watching Sam intently.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Aurelan asked.

"I think I am."

-LLAP-

Winona paced around the hospital's waiting room, drawing her sweater more tightly around herself – she'd run into the house to fetch it before she and Aurelan left. It was the softest material she'd ever felt, and a beautiful, faintly shimmering dark purple. She made a point to wear it as often as possible, so long as she knew it wasn't in too much risk of getting soiled. It was her most treasured piece of clothing – even if it had been hideous and uncomfortable, she still would have loved it, purely because Jim had given it to her. It had been his first Mother's Day gift to her since he'd left elementary school and his teachers stopped making the kids make cards to celebrate it. She would've understood completely if he'd just sent her a card or something quick and simple, but instead he had clearly put a lot of thought into the sweater, probably even consulting either Carol or Uhura about it (since his fashion sense seemed to be limited to Starfleet uniforms, t-shirts, jeans, and sneakers), and taking the time to ask someone back home on Earth to order it for him.

It was that sentiment that made her think she was the luckiest mother in the galaxy. For 29 years, she had done everything wrong, and yet she somehow managed to earn the golden-hearted affections of the boy she'd wronged countless times.

So now she clutched it close, hoping that luck would rub off on Jim's current situation.

"Winona, relax," Aurelan advised. She sat in one of many rickety, faux wood chairs that lined three of the waiting room's sterile white tile walls. The four was covered by several doors – one to a turbolift, one to the hallway beyond, and one to the bathroom. A few small tables occupied the room, too, each one with a vase of flowers in the middle that was surrounded by old-fashioned paper magazines covering a wide range of medical topics. Aurelan was currently flipping through one about the psychology of love.

Winona continued pacing. "It's been two hours, Aurelan."

"And Leonard is the Chief Medical Officer of Starfleet's flagship for a very good reason. Jim is in good hands."

"You just reassured me without actually reassuring me."

"Well, I'm not gonna lie and say Jim is fine."

"You could've said he _will_ be ok."

"That's nothing the nurses haven't already said."

"But he's my _son_."

Aurelan stood and put her magazine down, leaving it open to mark her spot. Walking over, she grabbed Winona's arm to stop her. "And he's my brother."

"In-law," Winona pointed out.

Aurelan tilted her head and leveled a look at Winona that said "Oh, come on." "I'm an only child, Winona, and the closest thing Jim has to a sister is his communications officer. You had to realize that we'd grow close. And that means I'm almost as worried about him as you are."

Winona raised an eyebrow. "Almost?"

"We both know nothing rivals a mother's love for her child. Not even the love between the closest siblings."

"True," Winona conceded. All right, if Aurelan could act this calmly, then so could she. Winona took a deep breath and mentally shook herself – though she didn't let go of her sweater. "So, Sam."

Aurelan released Winona's arm. "He definitely cares about Jim."

"Yes, he does," Winona agreed.

"You say they used to love each other, except I haven't really seen much evidence of that. I'm not accusing you of lying or anything, it's just..."

"They don't seem to have many good memories with each other," Winona finished. "Believe me, I've found myself wondering if they actually loved each other, or if I was just seeing what I wanted to see. But seeing the way Sam reacted when Jim collapsed, I _know_ I wasn't completely imagining it. Something just… happened to make it seem that way."

Aurelan nodded. "So, the question is _why_ Sam has buried those feelings."

Winona shrugged helplessly. "So many things could've caused it."

"Well, let's start with what we know: Sam thinks Jim is trying to copy their father so he can get attention. So, what's happened that would have given Sam that opinion?"

"Jim's first interview," Winona theorized. "Sam and I were channel-surfing when we saw it, and we were both so stunned we stopped to watch it. Jim was in his dress uniform, and pretty much every question the interviewers asked him was about either George's influence or how Jim felt being Earth's hero at such a young age. Now that I think about it, maybe he did a little too much basking the spotlight – at least, that's how it looked."

"Logical enough," Aurelan murmured. "Sam spends his whole life remembering what Jim was like as a little kid, maybe even missing that little brother he'd known, and suddenly the adult version of Jim is flung in his face, and Jim is so completely different that Sam hates him for it."

Winona found herself nodding agreement. "So all we've gotta do is make Sam realize that, somewhere underneath all the narcissism and everything, Jim is still the good boy he grew up beside?"

"Basically."

Winona rubbed her face, feeling a headache coming on at the mere thought of unraveling everything Jim had become in the last eighteen years. "Great."


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: School is back once again, bringing with it lack of time to write and motivation to do stuff, so the wait between chapters will be longer again. I'll do my best to update quickly, of course, but I'm only human.

* * *

Leonard stepped into the waiting room, fiddling with the too-long sleeves of the hospital uniform a nurse had found for him. Aurelan was sitting in a chair and reading a magazine, a small stack of magazines on the seat beside her. Winona was pacing in front of her, her arms wrapped around herself. When they heard the door, though, Aurelan dropped her magazine and Winona whirled around and froze in place. Leonard held up a hand to forestall their questions.

"He'll be fine, and yes, you can see him now."

They didn't hesitate to follow him out of the room. "What was it?" Aurelan asked.

"Acute pancreatitis. Basically, his digestive enzymes activated before they were released into the small intestine and so attacked his pancreas instead, which caused a sudden inflammation."

"Ow," Aurelan murmured sympathetically.

"Trust me, he got lucky. There are two forms of pancreatitis: acute and chronic. While acute is milder, severe cases can cause bleeding into the gland, tissue damage, infection, cyst formation, and damage to the heart, lungs, and kidneys. That's why it took so long – I was being as thorough as possible to make sure none of that had happened."

"Did it?" Winona checked.

"As far as I can tell, no. He'll be stuck here for a couple days at least, though, both for monitoring and treatment."

"What treatment?" Winona asked.

"Just some pain meds and IV fluids – pancreatitis can cause some dehydration. And his fever's still gotta go down, but otherwise it's just precautionary. And his room is… here," he said, pausing to hold the door open for them.

The room wasn't too different from to the one Jim had stayed at after Khan, but smaller. Three visitor's chairs were shoved against the back wall beside the door, opposite the biobed's wall, which was situated next to the room's only window. Jim's readings were displayed on a panel to the right of the biobed. The area to the left of the bed was clear for any extra equipment a potential emergency would call for, or for visitors to sit beside the patient.

Jim lay on the bed, out cold as he slept off a sedative. A needle in his right hand fed him fluids, and one in the inside of his left elbow gave him pain medication. As Winona instantly picked up Jim's free hand, Leonard went up to check the readings. Jim's temperature had dropped another tenth of a degree, finally bringing him under 101.

"When will he wake up?" Aurelan wondered.

Leonard shrugged. "It wasn't a very heavy sedative, but Jim's reactions have always been a bit unpredictable. But it will probably be a few hours yet, at least."

"So we could talk, then?" Winona broached after a moment.

Leonard turned around warily. Both women had pulled up chairs and sat down beside Jim, Aurelan by his head, smoothing his hair, and Winona further down so she could hold his hand without disturbing the IV. "About what?"

"Jim," Aurelan answered.

"What about Jim?"

"Well, we came up with a theory as to why Sam hates him," Winona began. "We think Sam loves the little kid he knew, but once he saw Jim's first interview…"

"He became disillusioned. I can see a couple holes there," he said, thinking of Jim's memories of his childhood, "but it works well enough. What do you want to do with this theory?"

Aurelan took up the explanation. "We figured that, if Sam could get even a glimpse of the Jim he grew up with, then he would at least soften up a bit."

Leonard glanced down at Jim, sleeping peacefully, his troubles temporarily forgotten. "Do you have any evidence to support that belief?"

 _I sound like the hobgoblin._

"Well, when Jim collapsed, Sam got almost protective," Winona told him.

Leonard snorted. "Yeah, an injured Jim would certainly spark childhood memories."

Winona winced, squeezing Jim's hand tighter, while Aurelan glanced between them in confusion. "What?"

"She doesn't know?"

"It's not exactly something Sam and I like to talk about," Winona pointed out.

"What don't you talk about?" Aurelan demanded.

Leonard patted Jim's shoulder. "Let Jim tell you later, all right?"

Aurelan nodded and leaned back, looking entirely dissatisfied but still resigning herself to wait.

"So, what, you guys want to somehow push aside everything Jim has become over the last eighteen years so Sam realizes it's the same person?"

Aurelan intently studied Jim's eyes for signs of waking. "That's the gist of it."

Leonard pulled a chair around and dropped into it. "Do you even realize how impossible that's gonna be? I know you barely know him, but _eighteen years_."

Winona ran a hand through her hair. "I know. I know, but their adult personalities don't exactly get along, do they?"

"And that's never going to change if we strip away everything Jim has become," Leonard countered.

Aurelan looked at him. "I'm not saying we do it permanently – that wouldn't do anyone any good. But if Sam gets a glimpse of some personality trait he remembers Jim having…"

"All right," Leonard conceded. "Uh, what was Jim like as a kid?"

Winona closed her eyes to think. "Perfect grades, did everything he was told, really sweet. Young and innocent, like any little kid."

Leonard pinched the bridge of his nose. "So, the complete opposite of what he is now."

"Well, he looks kind of sweet right now," Aurelan observed.

"Nope," Leonard said. "He looks peaceful. Sweet, innocent Jim exists only when he really, really wants something. Or when children are around."

"I've got kids," Aurelan pointed out.

"Jane wants to have a tea party with them anyway," Winona added, straightening up.

"If they have the tea party in the hospital-" Aurelan started.

"Perfect," Winona agreed.

"Hold on a second. We're going to use both a six-year-old girl and Jim's condition against Sam?" Leonard checked.

Aurelan and Winona exchanged a somewhat sheepish glance. "When you put it that way..."

"I like it," Leonard announced, even as he patted Jim's forehead and thought _Sorry, kid._

Jim didn't react, oblivious to the plot being discussed over his sleeping body.

-LLAP-

The sun gradually sank towards the horizon. Visiting hours were technically over, but Leonard had managed to convince the hospital to let them stay, in exchange for promising to help with some of the more difficult to treat patients, so he was out making rounds. Winona had tried to stay awake, but the stress of her sons' antagonistic relationship had caught up with her, and she had ended up fast asleep slumped against the bed, her hand still wrapped around Jim's, her head resting on his thigh. Aurelan remained in her seat by Jim's shoulder, alternating between watching him for signs of consciousness and watching the sun sink lower – the clouds were beginning to take on a golden tinge, signaling the preparation of a striking sunset.

But that was a while off yet, so she returned her attention to Jim. His face was peaceful, more relaxed than she'd ever seen it. Of course, that was probably because he wasn't caught in the middle of a relaxing situation, but regardless, it was a nice change; peace looked good on him. He looked like the young man he was instead of someone a decade older with the weight of the galaxy resting on his shoulders. With the sun's light casting a golden glow on his face, he looked…

 _Young. He looks young._

 _And that's exactly what we need._

She shook Winona, who stirred with a yawn. "What…" Abruptly remembering where she was, she lifted her head and squinted at Jim's face, blinking away sleep. "Is he…?"

"No, and at the moment, I don't want him that way," Aurelan replied.

Winona looked at her like she'd grown a second head. "What?"

"Look at his face," Aurelan ordered. After giving her a few moments to do so, she continued. "Look how peaceful he looks, how innocent, how young. And those last two things are pretty much what we want to show Sam, right?"

"And…?" Winona prodded, nodding slowly.

"So maybe we don't have to wait for him to be well enough for one of Jane's tea parties."

Comprehension sparked to life in Winona's tired brown eyes. "Brilliant."

Aurelan stood. "I'll go get Sam."

But Winona stood too, shaking her head. "No, I should."

"But you know little Jim," Aurelan pointed out.

"Which is the problem," Winona countered. "Sam knows that I'll never see him as anything but my baby boy, whether I see him sleeping or starting bar brawls, and that's hardly going to do anything to convince him that his little brother is the same person lying on that biobed. You, on the other hand, only know him as an adult, so if _you_ see the little kid in Jim, then Sam will too."

Aurelan couldn't deny the logic, but… "You know that, whichever one of us leaves, they have to stay home with the kids."

"And if he wakes up while I'm gone… I know," Winona sighed. She glanced down at their joined hands, up at his face, then tore her gaze away. "It shouldn't take that long. He's still pretty out cold…"

Aurelan rested her hand on Winona and Jim's. "Just go. And if he does wake up, I'll explain – he'll understand."

"Not with this."

"Then I'll make him, ok? He's stubborn and sensitive, not unreasonable."

"Sensitive?" Winona asked dubiously.

 _Why do I know him better than his own family?_ "Yes. The whole tough guy thing is just an act, you know, at least sometimes. He really _is_ the same little boy you knew, but everything he's done has hidden that away because it's too vulnerable. He's sweet and caring and most of all, just like anyone else in the universe, he wants to be _loved._ And that part of him, that hidden, precious part, is sensitive to what you and me and Sam and Leonard and his crew think of him and how you treat him. And after everything he's been through, it's just all too easy for him to clam up and push people away if they make a big enough mistake, because he just automatically assumes it was deliberate and tries to protect himself. It takes a little explaining, that's all, and then he'll happily be your son again. So go be with your grandkids – Jim'll understand. Ok?"

Winona nodded. With one last contemplative glance at her son, one last squeeze of his hand, she left.

Leonard passed her on her way out of the room. He paused in the doorway, casting a confused glance at Winona. "She was practically glued to Jim when I last saw her," he commented to Aurelan.

"I had an idea," Aurelan explained. "Can you tell the staff to let Sam in when he gets here?"

Concern flickered over Leonard's expression, his eyes darting to the prone Jim. "Sam?" he checked warily.

Hurt and anger sparked in her heart. _He doesn't trust my husband._

Then a tiny voice inside whispered _Would you?_

Aurelan sighed. "He's not like that, Leonard."

Leonard was shaking his head before she finished the sentence. "I know. Well, I don't, but I'm guessing someone like you wouldn't love someone like that. I just don't know how Jim would react if he woke up after what happened while Sam's here. Jim's not exactly… He'll be defensive when he remembers he collapsed in front of Sam."

Aurelan narrowed her eyes. "What aren't you guys telling me about his past? Why is he so defensive and jumpy?"

"You know that you're not gonna get the full story after such a short time," Leonard pointed out.

"But there's something _big_ that I'm missing. Something _important_ ," Aurelan insisted.

"We all feel that way, believe me," Leonard replied, walking over to check Jim's readings.

" _Leonard_."

He didn't look at her, focusing single-mindedly on the readings. "It's not my place-"

"Is he ever gonna tell me on his own?" Aurelan cut him off.

Leonard hesitated, then sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "No, probably not."

"So _tell me._ "

He turned to face her, stepping closer to Jim, carefully picking his words. "I'm not gonna tell you anything too specific – that's for Jim to trust you with. But I will tell you that there were two events that explain a _lot_ about who Jim is now. They both happened when he was thirteen, and they were both horrific. The first event had three years of similar activity foreshadowing it, and the second no one saw coming but took months to finally end. They both haunt his nightmares to this day – even I have nightmares about Jim going through them, sometimes, and I'm sure Sam isn't unaffected by the first event, either."

Aurelan could practically feel her heart shattering with every word out of Leonard's mouth. _No one_ deserved childhood memories that could be described like _that_ , and both in the same year… She vividly remembered the world-shattering moment when she'd learned of her parents' deaths mere days after turning thirteen, and that single memory eclipsed most of that year, transforming it into a haze of grief, and she knew she'd never been the same afterwards. And that was just one event surrounded by a relatively good life. Jim had had _two_ , surrounded by a pretty bad life.

And then there was the brief mention of Sam… "Sam has nightmares sometimes," she murmured. "And never tells me what they are."

Leonard glanced up at her. "Sounds like Jim. Nightmares, panic attacks, sickness- or drug-induced hallucinations… He never tells me. Doesn't even tell Spock, Pike, or Carol. He thinks he's protecting us, but really he's just hurting himself, and that's hurting us."

"Because you don't want him to hurt but he won't let you help."

"Yeah," Leonard agreed quietly.

The hospital intercom buzzed. _"Doctor McCoy, there's a Sam Kirk here to see his wife."_

"Oops," Leonard mumbled. He went up to the wall and pressed the button to answer. "Let him in. Tell him how to get to Jim Kirk's room."

" _Yes, sir."_

"I'm gonna go," Leonard told her.

Aurelan nodded. "All right. I'll just… wait here then."

With a quick grin, Leonard left, and Aurelan went outside of the room to wait for her husband.

When he came, he was grumbling something about stubborn hospital staff. Unable to suppress an amused smile, she waved him over.

"What am I doing here?" he asked as they stepped inside.

"Just to be with your baby brother."

"That is _so_ chick flick."

Aurelan rolled her eyes affectionately. "It's no different than staying with me or Winona or the kids when one of us is in the hospital."

Sam shifted awkwardly. "You guys are normally more awake, though, the few times that's happened."

"So just think," Aurelan advised. "The quiet is nice."

"Think about what?"

Aurelan settled in her chair again, smoothing Jim's hair. "Family."

After a moment, Sam reluctantly sat in a chair against the wall.

 _He never protested staying with Jim._

A small smile danced across her face.

 _He cares._

Outside, the sunset glowed red and magenta, the sun glowing gold at its center.

 _Maybe this won't end in disaster after all._


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: So I thought I'd get this up on Friday, but I have just been super distracted and unfocused cause of stuff happening in my other fandoms (mainly NCIS: Los Angeles and the Flarrowverse), so sorry for the extra wait time, and I hope this chapter's worth it. The parts I've been really looking forward to writing (my brain goes off on tangents a lot when I'm trying to mentally work on this fic during school) should be coming in sometime in the near future, so that'll motivate me, keep me focused. Hopefully.

* * *

When Leonard entered Jim's room, he was staring at the empty chair beside his bed, his eyes unfocused and withdrawn. "Morning, sleepyhead," he greeted.

Jim jumped, his heartrate spiking for a brief moment, before turning his head to Leonard. "Hey, Bones," he replied, his cheerful tone not convincing for a nanosecond.

Leonard perched on the edge of the biobed, leaning over to the control panel to raise Jim into a sitting position. "What are you remembering this time?"

Jim shook his head. "Nothing."

"You were alone for all of thirty seconds, and you were zoned out enough to jump when I walked in. You were remembering something."

He sighed, tilting his head back towards the empty chairs. "This is where they took me. And that's where Frank and Sam would sometimes sit and pretend to care."

"Well, that's where Aurelan and, soon, Winona will sit and care, and the kids'll pop in once you're strong enough. And Sam was there until a few minutes ago."

Jim jerked his head around to stare at Leonard. "What? Sam was here?"

Leonard rested a hand on Jim's shoulder. "Yup."

" _Willingly_?"

"He didn't come of his own accord, but he never once argued against coming and staying all night."

"And when you collapsed at the restaurant, he almost wouldn't let go of you," Aurelan chimed in. She handed Jim a plastic cup of cool water, secured with a lid; Jim eyed the straw dubiously.

Leonard bent it into a random twisty shape, and Jim sipped at it without further hesitation. "Which means he cares just as much as you do, but both of you are too stubborn to admit it."

"Hey," Jim protested. "I-"

"Just think about it, kid, before you go around denying things."

"Fine," Jim mumbled, shooting a pouty glance at Leonard over his cup. Aurelan rolled her eyes affectionately and leaned over to kiss his forehead, while Leonard turned his attention to the aftereffects of Jim's pancreatitis. He responded to the ministrations with his normal childish protests, playing up the mild pain of Leonard removing the needle from his hand, much to Aurelan's amusement.

"By the way, care to explain why my tricorder wasn't working?"

"I _may_ have messed with it a bit."

"You're an idiot, you know that?" Leonard muttered.

Jim smirked, the glee behind it strong enough to reassure Leonard, at least for the moment, that he was fine.

-LLAP-

Sam parked Mom's pale yellow 2216 Volkswagen Beetle in the driveway.

 _Against his will, his hand clenched into a fist. He saw Jim flinch away, and he immediately wanted to unclench it, but then Jim arrogantly rolled his eyes, and the fury flooded back. Fury because Jim was right, but he was so damn_ arrogant _about it. Maybe if he weren't…_

 _"Punch your sick little brother in a public bathroom. I'm sure that'll go over well with everyone._ _Now, I'm gonna go live my life and enjoy some well-earned time with my mom, sister-in-law, nephews, and niece, and_ _you_ _can't stop me._ _"_

 _Sam happily let him turn away. Until he stopped with a low groan, one hand rising to clutch his stomach. Unbidden concern sparked through Sam, and when Jim's legs started to collapse, he found himself lunging forward to catch him._

 _And until he watched the ambulance race away, his heart didn't stop racing._

 _And until Mom came home and told him he would go to the hospital, he couldn't focus on anything but his brother._

 _And until he saw Jim stir in the hospital, he didn't stop worrying._

Sam turned the car off and leaned his head against the steering wheel, breathing deeply. Because he knew this particular combination of feelings – he just hadn't felt them in nearly twenty years.

 _Sam sat on the floor of the living room, his homework spread out in front of him. On the couch, Jim napped, traces of grease still staining his hands from working on the tractor for hours. Sam glanced at the door, taking a moment to listen for tires crunching gravel, or footsteps thumping across the porch. Hearing nothing, he returned his attention to math, repeating the process every few minutes._

 _Unfortunately, he still didn't catch it in time. Struggling to solve a tricky equation, he only noticed the footsteps just before a key scraped in the lock and the door swung open on rusty hinges. Frank staggered in, a bottle in his hand, his eyes clouded by alcohol._

 _"BOY," Frank roared upon noticing Jim napping._

 _Jim jerked awake, terror flashing in his young blue eyes. He scrambled upright, snapping to attention, shifting his hands to clearly show the remaining grease stains._

 _"WHY are ya SLEEPING?" Frank demanded._

 _The fury wasn't directed at Sam, but his heart began to race, because now that event he'd been trying to protect Jim from was inevitable._

 _"I did my homework and spent hours on the tractor-" Jim defended himself. Remarkably, he didn't stutter, though panic bled through his tone._

 _"Ya didn't answer my question," Frank snarled._

 _"I worked hard and I was tired."_

 _"Ya worked hard, did ya? So if I go out there, that tractor's gonna run exactly like it's supposed to?"_

 _Jim shrank back. "Well, no, but-"_

 _Frank grabbed Jim's skinny wrist and jerked him to his feet, twisting his hand around. White tooth flashed as Jim bit his lip to keep from crying out. Desperation shot through Sam, but he didn't interfere, instead sitting stone-still on the floor, staring blankly at his homework, even though focusing on anything but Jim was impossible._

 _"No?" Frank hissed. "It won't work?"_

 _"I couldn't figure it out. I thought-"_

 _"Ya thought wrong, boy. You. Thought. Wrong."_

 _With every word, Frank twisted his hand further, until, on the last syllable, a distinct_ crack _echoed throughout the room. Jim finally couldn't hold it in, dropping to his knees with a short cry of agony._

 _"I thought wrong," Jim agreed weakly, his breath coming in pained gasps._

 _"So how will ya think right?"_

 _"I-I'm gonna go out and not come back in until the tractor works."_

 _"Exactly," Frank confirmed. He released Jim, and Sam's brother fled out the door, clutching his broken wrist against his stomach. Frank leered after him, taking a swig from his bottle, then turned to Sam._

 _"You're a good kid. Strong, no pathetic emotional attachments to the weak. Ya know how to act. Good job."_

 _He patted Sam roughly on the head before staggering away._

 _Sam ran a hand through his hair, burning with resentment and guilt, worry clouding his mind. He glanced between the kitchen and the time on his tablet, then put his stylus against the screen and continued with his homework._

The racing heart, the inability to focus, the ache of concern… Even the pretending not to care.

 _I pretended so much, I started to believe I didn't._

But it was more. Seeing Jim collapse, seeing him in pain, seeing him resting in the hospital – that had just triggered the realization, especially because it didn't take a genius to realize what Mom and Aurelan had tried to do by making him stay with Jim at his most vulnerable.

Sam had loved his little brother. But when he was sent to Tarsus IV and never came home, Sam had felt the loss as keenly as if Jim had died – and honestly, considering that Jim had still borne plenty of marks from Frank's worst beating, and the fact that they hadn't had any contact since the day Jim left, it wasn't all too different from Sam's perspective; he had just died of his wounds. And then, thirteen years later, Jim reappeared, alive and whole and happy and _different_. And Sam, without realizing it, had refused to see his little brother in the young Starfleet captain, turning every iota of grief and anger he'd ever felt involving Dad, Jim, and Frank onto that young man Jim had become. Because seeing Jim had felt _wrong._

Because now, Jim was fully grown. He was overconfident and brash; he was happier than Sam had ever seen him; he was a lot of things he hadn't been as a kid. And seeing it was jarring, because Sam could see the good in him, too – the kindness with which he treated kids during open interviews, the way he phrased his answers to give his crew as much credit as possible, dozens of little things he did his best to ignore – and he knew it was a good that had, somehow, survived everything this family and the universe had thrown at him, and it made Jim a far better man than Sam had ever been, and ever would be.

And here that good was, living in Sam's house, making his wife and mother and children fall in love with him while Sam was suddenly pushed to the side, old news compared to Jim Kirk, the shining star of a household and a federation.

And Sam _hated_ that.

He didn't hate his brother – he never had. Sam hated the symbol he had become, because it swept away everything else, everything Sam had wanted to protect when they were kids, everything Sam had earned for himself.

And seeing Jim once again become that vulnerable boy killed Sam inside with the realization that that boy had never died, just been mistreated over and over and over to the point that a new man had formed as a protective shell, a trap so those who tried to interact with him were chased away.

And Sam had fallen for it hook, line, and sinker, all too willing to believe his little brother was dead. All too willing to ignore that that man had come about because Sam hadn't been there for Jim.

 _I never meant to hurt you, Jim,_ he swore silently. _And I don't know how to fix it._

-LLAP-

When Winona finally arrived at the hospital, Jim was asleep again.

"I don't think he'd mind if you woke him up," Leonard told her. "Just don't startle him."

She nodded and went inside, while Leonard headed away to join Aurelan in the cafeteria. Jim had shifted onto his side a bit, and his hand no longer had a needle in it, so the arm was draped over his stomach. A bit of sweat glistened on his forehead, a signal of lingering fever, but otherwise he slept peacefully. She almost didn't want to wake him up, but she needed to hear his forgiveness for herself.

So she rested her hand beside his, their fingers lightly brushing. "Jim?"

His fingers twitched and he stirred slightly. "Mom?"

Winona smiled, enjoying the cuteness as he gradually woke, his eyes opening a crack. "Morning, sweetheart."

He stretched his fingers to catch hers in a light grip, lifting his free arm to wipe the sweat off his forehead. "Can you convince Bones I'm fine? I hate hospitals."

She shook her head, sighing affectionately. "You're staying here until he says you can go home."

Jim groaned, pressing his head back against the pillow. "You people are useless."

"No, we're letting McCoy do his job."

"Which makes you useless."

Winona glanced at the IV still feeding him pain meds. "So you'd rather he not do his job?"

"Yup."

"So I'll just call him in here and tell him to take away your pain meds."

"Uh, he can keep doing his job," Jim conceded hastily, tilting his arm to hide the needle against his side.

"Good choice," Winona praised. Jim cast a mock-glare at her. "So how are you feeling?"

"Bored."

Winona patted his hand. "Are you always like this?"

He shrugged. "Pretty much, yeah. But Spock normally manages to slip me a PADD to do work on."

"You… You'd rather work than sleep when you're injured?"

"Yup. A man can only take so much lying around."

"And a _Vulcan_ helps you get away with this?"

"Uhura keeps saying I've corrupted him. I dunno what she means," Jim informed her innocently.

"No idea," Winona agreed sarcastically.

"Hey, she got him to break frat regs years before they met me. She started it."

"You keep telling yourself that, sweetheart."

"I always do."

And they kept talking, especially after Aurelan and Leonard returned. They jumped from topic to topic, and the subject of her absence at his first awakening never came up – it didn't need to. Their hands remained connected, and that was all either of them needed to confirm that she wasn't leaving and he had forgiven her.

 _If only his situation with Sam was this simple._


	11. Chapter 11

JA/N: What is this? An update? It's a regular Christmas miracle! ...In May. But still.

I am so unbelievably sorry for the wait. I was losing inspiration for this, so I thought a brief break to focus on other fandoms would reinvigorate me, but that break just kept stretching out, and the distraction was compounded by school and a couple  
other real life things. But the new Beyond trailer is out (it's awesome, I love it), I found descriptions of a few scenes, the movie's in less than two months (I can't wait), TV shows are ending, and summer vacation is less than a month away - aka  
I'm inspired again and the number of distractions is shrinking, so hopefully I am back on a timely update schedule (though I have two essays due this week, so don't be too hopeful for chapter 12 before Thursday).

* * *

Aurelan stretched, yawning, and climbed out of bed. Over on his side of the bed, Sam stirred, rolling over to glare blearily at the clock. "Why is it already morning?" he mumbled.

"Because that's how life works," Aurelan responded.

Sam groaned in response, eliciting an amused smile from Aurelan. She let this mood hover for a moment before telling him "Jane wants to have a tea party."

"And you're telling me this because…?"

"She wants it with you and Jim."

Sam sat up, abruptly wide awake. "Today?"

"Why not? It's a holiday, after all. Start the new year off right."

"The new year starts tomorrow."

"Even better."

Sam sighed. "I don't have a choice, do I?"

Aurelan cast a sympathetic glance at her husband. "You always have a choice, but the right one isn't always the easy one."

Sam glanced at the family photo on the nightstand. "I know," he whispered. "Believe me – I know."

-LLAP-

 _"Of course you land yourself in a hospital while on vacation."_

"It's not like I do it on purpose," Jim protested. Lying on his side on the biobed, he shifted to get a better grip on the PADD, angling it carefully so it framed his face nicely.

Carol just shook her head in exasperation. _"Well, I'm glad you're all right,"_ she added. Even through the small PADD screen, her relieved smile warmed his heart.

"I aim to please."

She laughed. _"If you did that, you'd be a very different man. A rule-follower, for one, Mr. I Break Every Rule I Know About."_

"That's _Captain_ I Break Every Rule I Know About," Jim corrected.

 _"And there you go breaking another one."_

"What one?"

"The one that says never argue with a woman, especially if you're dating that woman," Bones chimed in. He entered the room, setting his PADD down on the stand beside Jim's biobed. "Winona and the kids'll be here soon," he reminded Jim, excitement tinging  
his tone.

"Excited to see Jane?" Jim teased.

Bones plopped down on the bed beside him, leaning down so the camera caught him. "She's much better company than you."

 _"Leonard, be nice,"_ Carol scolded. _"The princess is injured."_

"The princess can handle it, Carol."

"Hey," Jim complained. "I'm not a princess."

"I wouldn't be too sure about that one."

 _"So when do I get to meet the kids?"_ Carol asked once her laughter died down.

Jim returned his gaze to the PADD screen. "After they get used to having an uncle, probably."

 _"Right,"_ Carol sighed. _"Well, I guess I should go."_

"Unfortunately."

 _"I love you."_

"Love you, too."

 _"Oh, and Happy New Year's Eve."_

"Ditto, queen," Bones replied, reaching over to switch the PADD off.

Jim rolled over, wincing a bit as his sore back stretched. "Is that seriously the nickname you're gonna stick with? It took you this many years to come up with _queen_?"

"Well, it fits. She's the captain's girlfriend, and the most influential woman on the entire ship," Bones pointed out, taking the PADD and setting it down.

"She's not-"

"I'm not saying you don't listen to the rest of your crew, cause you do listen to them, but she's the one you listen to the most. She's like… your second first officer."

Jim's eyebrow rose. "Because that sentence made sense."

Bones glared. "You know what I meant, _princess._ "

"Hey! I am not-"

"Yes you are."

"Play nice, boys," a new voice scolded. Aurelan walked in, carrying a sleeping Jane, the area around her conspicuously devoid of energetic nine-year-old boys.

Happiness, perhaps a bit bittersweet, chased away the annoyance in Bones's gaze. "Do you want help?"

"Thanks," Aurelan agreed. "She's getting a bit heavy, but she was up late worrying about Jim and zonked out in the car, and I didn't want to wake her up."

"Jim has that effect on people." Bones carefully took Jane into his arms, arranging her in about the same position she had been in with Aurelan. Jim hadn't seen him look so content in… maybe he never _had_ seen Bones like that.

"Where are the boys?" Jim asked, shifting his gaze back to Aurelan.

"Vending machine," Aurelan replied. "Once they saw the Doritos, there was no keeping them away from it."

"Cool ranch or nacho cheese?" Jim checked.

"Cool ranch for Henry, nacho cheese for Peter."

"Peter's got good taste," Jim decided.

"I'm with Henry on this one," Bones put in.

"Weirdo."

"Not really," Aurelan commented.

"I am so alone."

"Don't be a drama princess."

"Sis, he's mean."

"I am not going to be a mother of five, you two. Leonard, don't be insulting, and Jim, don't be a baby."

She said it with an obviously-suppressed smile, but Jim and Bones still exchanged offended glances. Aurelan settled back in her chair, the suppressed smile transforming into a satisfied smirk. Bones pulled up a chair beside her, and a few minutes later,  
the twins ran inside, fingers stained by Dorito crumbs, unopened bags clutched in their hands. Entirely ignoring Aurelan's scolding of too many chips, they clambered up onto either side of Jim's bed and begged for – demanded, really – more stories  
about the _Enterprise._ While he told stories, Bones and Aurelan just talked.

It was a rare peaceful morning in the life of Jim Kirk.

-LLAP-

Sam glanced at the clock. In New York, the ball would drop in a few hours, and it would be a new year.

Tires crunched over gravel, and a quick beep of the horn signaled that Mom had arrived to pick him up.

He picked up the little pink box containing Jane's tea set and went out to meet her.

-LLAP-

When he got there, almost everyone was asleep. Henry was stretched out beside Jim, whose arm was wrapped around the quieter twin, both of them fast asleep. Peter slept on Jim's other side, a powered-off PADD resting on his chest. McCoy was on the floor,  
Jane in his lap, one of her books beside them. Aurelan alone was awake, enjoying a book of her own, holding a bottle of tea in one hand. She looked up as he opened the door, smiling warmly as she set her stuff down and quietly went outside. He set  
the box down and followed her, easing the door shut behind him.

"Hey," she greeted, stretching up for a kiss.

"The kids look comfy," Sam commented once their lips parted.

Aurelan looked inside, her hazel eyes soft with affection. "They've been bonding with their uncles."

"Uncles?"

She returned her gaze to him. "Come on, Sam. I know you haven't been around them much, but you must see how protective Leonard is of Jim. If one is their uncle, so is the other."

Sam reflected for a moment, remembering every time McCoy had protected Jim, every time they had known what the other was thinking without saying a thing…

"That should've been me," Sam murmured. Not out of jealousy – out of regret. He glanced at the doctor sitting with his daughter, settled so he could watch over the entire family, and the enormity of what the hostility had torn from him and his family  
crashed over him.

Aurelan rested her hand on his arm. "It still can be."

Sam sighed. "I'll never have what McCoy's got, though. Too much has happened between us."

"Maybe, maybe not. But you won't know if you don't try."

"Well now they're all sleeping."

Aurelan leaned against him, hugging his arm and smiling at her family. "Isn't it adorable?"

Sam leaned his head on hers. "I would never dare disagree with you."

She laughed. "Liar."

He stuck out his bottom lip in a mock-pout. "You wound me."

Aurelan pulled away, shaking her head. "Come on; it's dinnertime anyway."

She strode inside, calling "Who's hungry?"

Peter jolted awake immediately, almost falling off the biobed, but Jim's arm automatically moved to hold him in place. Henry awoke more gently, his eyes lighting up like little suns when he saw Sam. Jane just yawned and tried to snuggle closer to McCoy,  
but Aurelan picked her up while the doctor stretched stiffly and clambered to his feet. For a moment, Jim's eyes rested on Sam, but they lacked the hostility and wariness of earlier encounters, instead flickering with confusion and curiosity. Then  
his attention shifted to McCoy as he pressed his hand against Jim's forehead.

"Seriously, Bones?" he complained, releasing his hold on Peter to shove the hand away. McCoy just put it right back where it had been.

"Come on, boys," Aurelan said to her sons, "let's go get some dinner."

Setting Jane down but keeping hold of her little hand, she led the way out the door. Peter ran to catch up, but Henry paused to give Sam a quick fist bump. Sam smiled as he scampered to catch up with his more outgoing brother.

"That's a nice box you've got there," McCoy commented once the door closed behind them.

Sam glanced down at it, quickly setting it down. "It's, uh, it's Jane's."

McCoy smirked a little, but most of his expression was something entirely different.

"You got very attached to my daughter very quickly," Sam observed, narrowing his eyes slightly.

His expression hardened. "I'm not trying to take your kid, if that's what you're wondering."

"Just wondering why."

"None of-"

"Bones," Jim murmured warningly. Sam jumped, looking at his little brother in shock, but Jim's gaze was rigidly turned on McCoy.

Jim's caretaker glanced down at him before visibly making himself calm down. "I'm a father too," he explained gruffly, then firmly clamped his mouth shut, turning away from Sam.

Jim pushed himself into a sitting position, wincing a bit. "Go eat, Bones."

"But-"

"Go," Jim ordered, pushing him a little bit. "Don't think I don't notice you neglecting your own health when I'm sick."

McCoy sighed in exasperation. "You're not the captain here, you know," he reminded Jim even as he walked out.

"No, but I'm still royalty," Jim retorted.

"Glad you admit it, _princess,_ " McCoy called over his shoulder.

"'Princess?'" Sam echoed.

Jim pointed at the box. "You're not one to talk."

"That belongs to my daughter. It's not my fault she couldn't bring it herself."

"I would've loved to see the looks aimed at you."

"Oh, shut up," Sam muttered.

Jim smirked, and then an awkward silence wrapped around them. Realizing he was towering over Jim, Sam grabbed the nearest chair and sat down. Jim reached out and adjusted his biobed so he could lean back and still sit up.

"Thanks for, uh, catching Peter earlier. That boy's a magnet for bumps and bruises."

Jim shrugged, but a faint smile flickered across his face. "I'm used to it. Bones can be very clumsy on alien planets."

Sam tilted his head. "Doctors don't normally go on away missions, I thought."

"Neither do captains, but I don't send my crew where I won't go. And if I left him behind, he'd kill me. Well, the away mission would probably kill me first."

"What?"

Jim glanced up, then dropped his gaze to his sheets. "I tend to be a magnet for trouble. If we're not getting attacked by the native humanoids, then some carnivore will try to eat the away team, or some flower will shoot poisonous projectiles, or the  
weather is deadly. Or I catch a bug, or I'm allergic to something. Most away missions don't end all that well for me."

"Doesn't your crew-"

"They protect me," Jim intervened sharply, looking up. "They would die for me. But I would also die for them. That's what it means for me to be a captain."

Sam's confusion must have shown, because Jim explained further.

"The older captains are more distant from their crews, for plenty of good reasons. But me… I get close to them. I'm not some… some enigma of wisdom to my crew, because I'm not much older than my ensigns, and I'm younger than my lieutenant commanders.  
I hang out with the younger members and learn from the older ones. They know I'm not always professional; they know not to remind me about my birthday; they know my quirks. In return, I know their birthdays, I know who's dating who. I _know_ them,  
and they know me. We still stick to the command structure, but when it comes down to it, it doesn't matter what silver bands are on your sleeves – we're family. And family protects all members the same."

"I did try, you know," Sam murmured. He didn't look at his little brother, but he practically felt the mood sour.

"Not hard enough."

Excuses flooded to Sam's tongue, and he opened his mouth to say them. Then he glanced up and saw the emotion shining through cracks in Jim's stony expression.

"You're still scared of him."

It wasn't an accusation, it wasn't mocking. It was just a blurted statement, emotionless while Sam struggled with his own feelings about their step-father.

 _With a sense of muted triumph, Sam set down his stylus and electronically turned in his math homework. He plugged it in to charge overnight, sticking the stylus in his backpack. He placed the backpack by the door and went into the kitchen to fix his lunch for the next day. As he finished smearing peanut butter on his sandwich, he happened to glance out the window._

 _Outside, the wooden shed stood forlornly in the encroaching darkness. Yellow light glowed from a grimy square window. Jim was in there, probably struggling one-handed with the tractor that was always breaking down. He had lost track of how many nights Jim had spent working on that stupid tractor instead of eating, sleeping, playing, or even doing his homework._

 _He picked up the sandwich, taking a cautious step towards the brand new back door._

 _Footsteps made the floorboards upstairs creak, the noise coming closer to him._

 _Sam darted back to the counter, tucking the sandwich into his lunchbox just as Frank staggered in. He flinched as the horrid man, reeking of alcohol, clapped him on the back._

 _"'M g'nna check on yer bro'er," he slurred._

 _"All right," Sam replied._

 _As Frank headed out, Sam slunk upstairs to bed._

Jim turned away. "I am not," he protested half-heartedly.

"The hell you're not," Sam pushed, not bothering to keep his voice gentle.

Jim whipped his head back around, furious tears shimmering in his fiery blue eyes. "What the hell would you know about it, Mr. Untouchable?"

"I didn't know I was safe," Sam shot back. "I knew I was safer than you, but I still lived every day waiting for him to finally snap at me. I wasn't immune."

"So that means you were scared of him? Scared to death? So scared you didn't misswhen you were fighting for survival on Tarsus IV? So scared you still have nightmares?"

"I do," Sam snapped. "I do have nightmares, all right? Except my nightmares aren't about him beating me up, they're about him beating you up. I have nightmares about being too cowardly to protect you. Not a damn day goes by that I don't regret it."

Jim narrowed his eyes, opening his mouth to say something, but Sam left before he could spill anything else.


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: Summer is only two weeks away... Then I won't have school sucking up my writing time/energy/inspiration.

Who else is uber excited for Star Trek Beyond? I'm so excited for it I get distracted all the time. I loved the first trailer (unpopular opinion, I know, but I love me some action alongside the feels and humor), but I can't stop watching the second trailer... Or stop imagining what all the Spock and Bones one-on-one scenes are gonna be like. The sass will be deadly and beautiful and I _can't wait._

Anyways, here's chapter 12! (Sorry it's a wee bit shorter than usual, but I wanted to get it posted.)

* * *

 _What the hell?_ Leonard thought as Sam shoved past him, nearly making him drop his chicken salad. He turned to look at him, but the retreating back told him nothing. Suddenly suspicious, he hurried to take the few steps that would take him back into Jim's room.

The young captain was sitting up, blinking at the door. He didn't really seem to register that Leonard was there.

"He has nightmares," he finally said.

"Yeah," Leonard confirmed, remembering his earlier conversation with Aurelan.

"About me," Jim added, confusion seeping into his voice.

"He told you that?"

Jim's gaze shifted to Leonard, and it was so confused and pained that Leonard's heart wanted to break. "About not protecting me. Bones, have I misjudged him this whole time? Have I hated him for no reason?"

"No," Leonard said quickly. "No, it hasn't been for no reason. He didn't protect you – just because he hates himself for it doesn't change that. But it can change how you view each other now."

Slowly, Jim nodded. He refocused, realizing Leonard carried food.

"Is that chicken?"

-LLAP-

A few hours later, Leonard sat in a chair on one side of an old-fashioned Monopoly board set upon a small table. To his left sat Peter, and across from him sat Henry. To his right was the biobed, where Jim stretched out, Jane tucked in his arms, her eyes riveted to his PADD, currently playing one of her shows. Aurelan sat just behind her sons, playing the role of the banker. Sam and Winona sat on the other side of Jim's biobed, discussing plans for an addition to their house.

As he awaited his next turn, Leonard let his gaze rest on Jim and Jane. Jim looked more relaxed than Leonard had ever seen him, his interactions with the kids coming naturally, even more so than captaining the _Enterprise_. His mind drifted to time spent with Joanna, all of the stress and negative emotions she had wiped away by simply being in the same room as him.

 _Maybe that's what Jim needs – a kid of his own._

 _On the_ Enterprise _? Heck no. And good luck getting either one to agree to it, as devoted as they are to their careers._

A triumphant "Yes!" from Henry jolted him from his thoughts. He refocused on the board, realizing that Peter had just set his piece down on Henry's best property – Peter was bankrupt.

"Dang it," Peter mumbled as he slid his money over to his twin.

Leonard rolled the dice, his heart sinking as he landed on Jim's best property. "Dang it," he echoed.

Jim and Henry high-fived each other.

"You always beat me," Peter muttered.

"Well, sweetie, maybe you should take a page out of your brother's book next time," Aurelan advised.

"Or just accept that some people will beat you at some things every time," Leonard joked, flashing a mock-glare at Jim.

"It's not my fault you stink at some games," Jim protested.

"I _let_ you win."

"You would never do that to my ego."

Winona chuckled. "He has a point, Leonard. Peter, why don't you and Henry go to the kids' area outside? You can work off some of that caffeine and repair your own ego."

"Sweet!" Peter exclaimed, jumping up and running out, Henry a couple steps behind.

"Be careful," Aurelan called after them.

"Boys," Sam sighed.

"You have no room to talk," Mom rebuked playfully. "Remember that time when-"

"Don't," Sam groaned.

"Well, now she has to," Leonard pointed out. Sam shot a glare at him, though it wasn't as unfriendly as it had been before. Leonard stared right back, pointedly sipping a glass of water. They both missed the uncomfortable glance Jim shot at them.

The eye contact hardly lasted a second, but it didn't go unnoticed. "Or maybe it's Jane's turn to play with the adults," Winona suggested.

Jane forgot her show immediately, sitting up with an excited "Yay! Tea party!"

Jim set the PADD aside as Jane jumped off the bed to grab her pink box. Leonard, Jim, and Sam each accepted a small pink plastic teacup, but Aurelan politely declined as she switched seats with her husband. Jane set two stuffed animals on the table, introducing a sparkly pink unicorn as Mr. Fluffy and a blue teddy bear as Señor Blue. Things went well, until Jane asked what she probably thought was an innocent question with a simple answer.

"Why are you always yelling?"

The three men exchanged uncomfortable glances. Jim conveniently chose that moment to cough, giving Leonard an excuse to fuss over him, leaving Sam to stumble through an answer.

"We, um… We have some differences of opinion, sweetie. That's all."

 _That's not all,_ Leonard grumbled silently.

Jane blinked. "You and Mommy have a lot of differences."

"We do," Sam agreed cautiously.

"You always stop yelling," Jane pointed out, as if the answer to all the universe's problems lay in the simple statement.

"That's different, sweetie."

"Why?"

Leonard tilted his head, realizing with a jolt that her confusion was justified. Jim and Spock argued all the time, their viewpoints clashing like fire and ice, but they inevitably made up, successfully returning to the relationship they'd had prior to the argument. Maybe it was their proximity, or their close friendship, or something else entirely, but they managed to put every argument behind them, and maybe even grow closer because of them. Their clashes kept their minds sharp, the amends afterwards reinforcing their bond.

Why wasn't every argument like that?

The obvious answer was their friendship. But they had practically hated each other before Nero, each one making some fairly nasty remarks about the other, and still they found a way to get over their differences and save the world together.

So if their relationship could start so roughly and endure despite everything, why couldn't Sam and Jim do the same? Jim and Winona had, after all.

But Leonard had been pushing for that to happen, as had Spock. Now it was Aurelan and Winona pushing for it. All Leonard was doing now was being hostile towards Sam.

Jim might love Winona and Aurelan, but they just didn't have that same influence over the young captain. He was still learning to trust them, whereas he had been unconditionally trusting Leonard and Spock for years. It was only natural, then, that Leonard's attitude towards Sam would be more influential. Maybe it was a bit conceited to think, but if Leonard could learn to tolerate Sam instead of snapping at him every time he was in a room with Jim, the road ahead for the two brothers would be easier.

"Because…" Sam began.

"Because some people are just more stubborn about some things," Leonard explained, carefully keeping his tone mild. Sam flashed him a suspicious glance anyway, but he ignored it and took a sip of his fake tea.

Jane thought this over for a moment, then nodded. "Ok."

Aurelan stood up. "Why don't we go find your brothers, Jane?"

"But-"

"If we don't get them in time, we'll miss the ball dropping," Winona added, holding out her hand.

"Fine," Jane agreed, a bit petulantly. She walked outside, passing right by her grandmother's hand. Aurelan followed, but Winona hesitated for a moment.

"Darn," she murmured. "She's growing up."

 _They always do._

Not that he would get to see Joanna grow up.

"What do you mean, 'stubborn?'" Sam demanded as soon as she walked out.

Leonard barely held back a sarcastic tone. "Relax – I was talking about me, not you."

"But you're both stubborn," Jim pointed out.

They shot identical looks of irritation at the young captain. He settled back with a cheeky grin.

"Sam, can we talk in the hall?"

"Sure," Sam agreed uneasily.

"Aw, come on, don't leave me alone," Jim complained.

Leonard pointed at Jim's PADD. "Text your girlfriend," he called over his shoulder.

Outside, with the door shut, Leonard made a conscious effort to remain at a comfortable distance with nonthreatening body language. "We've got our differences," he began. "But if we've got one thing in common, it's that we care about this family. And since neither of us want to hurt it, especially the kids, we've gotta learn to get along. I'm not saying how well or anything, just that we need to. Can we agree on that?"

Sam nodded.

"And you do want to be Jim's brother, right?"

"Yeah," Sam confirmed, quiet but unhesitant, shooting a glance at the door.

"So I realized in there that an obstacle to that might be us."

Sam's brows furrowed in confusion. "Us?"

"Our dynamic. The way we're always tense and hostile to each other."

"Jim protected me from you," Sam observed.

"Yeah, he did. And that's probably not a good thing. It might mean he's starting to like you, but it also means I'm hurting your relationship. If all he's getting from me is hostility, that ruins your chances. And if he gets hostility from you, that also-"

"-ruins my chances. So, we need to like each other, for everyone's sakes."

"Basically."

Sam was silent for a moment. "You said earlier that you're a father, too. What are your kids like?"

Leonard shook his head. "I'd tell you if I could."

Sam paled. "They aren't-"

"No, no, she's fine. I've got one – Joanna. She's thirteen now, but her mother divorced me seven years ago, and I haven't seen her since. I never even saw it coming. We were a happy family one day, and the next I was shoved out the door with a bag of belongings."

"That's… almost worse," Sam whispered, glancing towards the stairs where his kids had gone.

"Not quite. I still have the hope of getting to see her once she turns 18, at least. But at least that let me meet Jim; I never would've joined Starfleet if I'd had another option. And now I can't imagine life without him. That kid is the most annoying thing in the universe, but he's also one of the best people of any species, both in heart and mind. We're lucky to be his family."

"You adopted him, didn't you?"

"When I met him, I was at rock bottom, he was covered in his own blood, and we were both hungover with nothing to our names. We adopted each other. That's just how Jim works; he attracts the broken with his own brokenness, and they fix each other."

"He won't be broken forever, will he?" Sam asked concernedly.

"Some breaks you can't fix," Leonard murmured. "And that's when you stick together like glue and support each other."

"The ball's gonna drop! The ball's gonna drop!"

Sam smoothly swung open the door while Leonard stepped out of the way, just in time for Peter to race into the hospital room. Henry wasn't far behind, following slowly enough to hold Jane's hand, with Winona and Aurelan just behind. Leonard and Sam followed them in.

The men took up positions on either side of Jim. Leonard scooped Jane into his arms, Aurelan standing beside him. Henry sat beside Jim, who wrapped an arm around the boy, while Peter bounced excitedly beside Sam and Winona.

By unspoken agreement, the adults each rested a hand on Jim, Sam and Leonard taking his shoulders and Winona and Aurelan taking his hands.

Standing together like this, they watched the ball drop.


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: I swear, this was supposed to be done weeks ago, but I wrote three versions of this chapter before I was satisfied with it. Three very different versions. It's currently a little after 2am and I should really be in bed, but I wanted to finish and post this before I changed my mind _again_.

Also, less than two weeks (not even 7 hours less, but still) until I get to see Beyond! Sooooo excited.

* * *

High overhead, the sun shone down on a new year on the Kirk farm. With the kids all off on playdates, peace reigned. Jim sat on the yard with Bones, Sam, Aurelan, and Mom. His family was talking quite happily about kids – they had even managed to pry a couple Joanna stories out of Bones – but Jim just sat in silence, sipping at his hot chocolate, letting his mind wander to the subject of last night's revelation.

Nightmares. Sam had nightmares… about him. After all those years of apparently not caring, he actually had?

If there was one thing Jim prided himself on (but anyone and everyone knew he prided himself on _many_ things), it was his ability to judge people. That ability had carried him through tense social encounters, diplomatic missions, hostage negotiations… Basically, it was life-saving. Sometimes, he screwed up, but never this badly… Never for thirty years. Never with someone he'd known for years.

But then… did he actually know his brother? Yeah, they'd grown up together, but they had wasted that time until all Jim remembered was an uncaring kid he was forced to live with, and then they'd been separated for nearly two decades. And everything had changed for them in those long years. They had grown up, forged careers, fallen in love, built a family and a life and a home for themselves. No one stayed the same after all of that, even if their younger selves were accurately remembered.

So honestly, he could've screwed up that badly. He _did_ screw up that badly.

Jim set his mug down. "Can we talk, Sam?"

Sam looked up, confusion and maybe a hint of eagerness flashing in his gaze. "Yeah," he replied, letting Aurelan sit up before he got up. Mom took her arm from around Jim as he stood up, but her hand hovered near him until he was securely on his feet and walking away with his brother.

"You're hovering," Jim muttered.

"Sorry," Sam said, edging to the right a bit. "But you were just-"

"I'm not gonna collapse, ok?" Jim insisted, firm but not unkind. "I'm not some fragile butterfly."

"I know that. Hell, you're probably the galaxy's strongest butterfly."

"Thanks. I think."

"You're welcome, butterfly."

Jim rolled his eyes. "Seriously?"

Sam grinned, gesturing at Jim's eyes. "Only butterflies should sport that shade of blue."

Jim batted his eyelashes. "All the better to attract girls with."

"Playboy," Sam teased. Then he paled. "Jane has that same eye color. So do the twins."

"Good luck with the teen years."

"They are _not_ taking after you."

"Why wouldn't they want to be famous starship captains?"

"Does McCoy ever punch you? I feel like he does."

"He settles for stabbing me with hypos. He's gotten very inventive about how he sneaks up on me to do it. Spock has nearly killed me twice, though."

Sam shot him a confused, incredulous look. "Wha- You know what, I'm just not gonna question it."

"That's probably smart," Jim conceded. "The second time is pretty awkward to explain."

Sam shook his head. "Why are we walking aimlessly through the property?"

Jim sobered, suddenly missing the banter that had come surprisingly easily. "Because I wanted to talk."

"Right," Sam said, mirth fading from his tone as well. "About what?"

"About, um… About last night," Jim mumbled.

"Oh. That. The nightmares."

"I just… I didn't think you had any about that."

Sam slowed to a halt, his hands tucked in his jean pockets, his head down. "It starts in the day. We would be in the living room, and you'd be video chatting with a bunch of your friends. You'd have this enormous, ridiculously happy grin on your face. And then Frank walks in, and suddenly it's night, and then he's beating you up for whatever crappy reason and your friends and happiness are gone. And then I hear Dad saying I should've done something, that I should've fought for you."

 _You should've_ , was the first thing that popped into Jim's mind, but he stopped the words from escaping his lips. Hindsight was 20-20, after all – other factors had been in consideration all those years ago. "You were just a kid, too."

"I know that, but…"

"Sam, I get it. You don't-"

Sam's head snapped up. "You _shouldn't_ get it. There were so many things I could've done, but I did none of them because I was a coward. I still am."

"You're n-"

"I didn't want you in my house because I knew you were a brilliant person and I was scared it would make Aurelan realize-"

"Sam, no," Jim cut him off. "I see the way she looks at you when you're being bullheaded. It's the same way Uhura looks at Spock. She knows you're flawed, she knows there are other men that are probably easier to love, but she still loves you. She's never gonna give up on you, ok? Besides, I may be many questionable things, but I'm not a woman-stealer. And not wanting to lose the woman you love doesn't make you a coward."

"Maybe not, but being scared of you does."

Jim met his brother's gaze. "You got over it, didn't you? I'm here. We're talking. Cowards don't face their fears."

Sam shrugged. "Doesn't change the fact that I was one when we were kids. Well, when you were a kid. I was fifteen when the beatings started – plenty old enough to know what to do."

"You were scared, too," Jim pointed out. "You were right. You didn't know you were safe. And if you'd told, you might not have been."

"You were _more_ scared, Jim. You were eleven. You lived with knowing that you _definitely_ would have been hurt for things beyond your control. And I did nothing. For years."

Jim opened his mouth, but he couldn't find anything to say.

"Dad… Dad is gone. Protecting you… That's my job. It shouldn't have taken 31 years to realize that. It shouldn't have taken some stranger finally taking care of you to teach me what being a big brother means. What being _your_ big brother means."

Silence fell as they comprehended Sam's words. And then Sam wrapped Jim in a hug.

Jim had been hugged many times over the last few years. He had been hugged by Pike, Bones, Uhura, Chekov, Carol, Mom. He had been hugged in relief, joy, love, grief, excitement. When Chekov hugged him, he felt happy that he could help the kid. When the others hugged him, he felt safe. When any of them hugged him, he felt loved. He enjoyed all of the hugs, even when the other person's enthusiasm exasperated any injuries he may have.

But this hug… Everything melted away. Their history, their pain, their rage. All that existed was a pair of brothers standing in a field that had witnessed horrors, but had also witnessed love. And in his big brother's arms, Jim only felt the love. The love of a family that was once broken, but now healed, and somehow that made their bond so much stronger.

 _"The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb."_

And when people had both blood and water…

"I love you," Sam whispered with the heat of a promise.

"I love you, too," Jim whispered with the acceptance of forgiveness.

-LLAP-

Jim and Sam had returned an hour ago, and the tension between them had all but vanished. Now Jim was actively participating in the storytelling, though Leonard had taken up the current tale. Aurelan was tucked in Sam's arm, listening with a grin on her face. In fact, everyone but Jim had a grin on their face.

"And I run in to tell him how to get the tribbles to stop breeding, and he's literally up to his neck in tribbles. I have never seen a man look so annoyed while standing in a pile of purring fuzzballs," Leonard explained through his laughter.

Jim sighed. "They weren't purring, Bones, they were dead."

Leonard refused to let Jim dampen his mood. "You were standing in a pile of fuzz, Jim. No one in their right mind is annoyed by standing in a pile of fuzz."

"You would be annoyed if dozens of tribbles had just rained down on your head. And there were more still falling on me."

"No, I wouldn't."

"You get annoyed at everything else."

"No, I get annoyed at you all the time because you're an idiot."

"I have a genius-level IQ."

"Doesn't mean you use it."

"Hey-"

"Ok, boys," Winona cut in, albeit smiling. "Jim, why don't you go get us some more hot chocolate?"

Jim practically leapt at the opportunity to get up. Sam moved to follow him.

"Sam, I don't need a babysitter."

"I don't care."

"I'm _fine_."

"Do you even know where the hot chocolate is?"

"I'll find it."

"Not the way Aurelan organizes everything."

On they went, bickering the whole way. Aurelan couldn't even find the energy to scold her husband – she didn't want to break this newfound peace the two brothers had.

"And that's how you know they're brothers," Winona observed. She too was watching them walk to the house, and she was more content than Aurelan had ever seen her.

"The Kirk family is back together," Leonard murmured.

"Are you jealous, Leonard?" Aurelan teased.

Leonard sipped at his hot chocolate. "Nope. I'm the one who has to live on his ship and patch him up all the time; I'm perfectly happy to let someone else take care of the idiot every now and then."

Aurelan chuckled. "If it's so annoying, you could just transfer."

"It would be a more peaceful life," Leonard mused.

"Don't you dare leave my son in the care of another doctor," Winona scolded.

"Trust me, I know how much both he and Spock need me to patch them up. In regards to working with allergies and half Vulcan, half human biology, I'm the most qualified doctor in Starfleet," Leonard informed them wearily.

"At least you're never bored," Aurelan supplied cheerfully.

Leonard rolled his eyes. "A small blessing I'd rather do without sometimes."

"You know, they're taking a while," Aurelan commented, eyeing the door.

"Jim probably managed to hurt himself," Leonard joked drily. "That man really does need a babysitter."

"I'm going to go make sure they didn't start trying to kill each other again," Aurelan said, getting up. But when she stepped into the living room, she heard a conversation she didn't understand.

"Jim, you don't have to be scared of him anymore," Sam insisted.

"He nearly killed me," Jim retorted, his voice shaky.

"You can fight back now, Jim."

"I can't fight the nightmares," Jim hissed. "He's not even in jail anymore. He got parole for good behavior."

"He's not allowed anywhere near us, and if he breaks that rule, you won't fight him alone this time," Sam promised.

"Fight who?" Aurelan asked, stepping into the kitchen.

Jim practically jumped out of his skin, flinching back against the counter and crossing his arms tighter. Sam almost shifted protectively in front of his little brother before realizing it was only Aurelan.

"You want her to know?" Sam asked Jim quietly. Aurelan bit her lip to hold back a demand to know.

Jim shook his head, not looking at either of them.

"She'll find out eventually," Sam murmured.

"You tell her, then," Jim ground out.

"It's your story to tell," Sam coaxed.

Jim flashed a glance at his brother, then to Aurelan, and finally to the room behind her. "We… We had a stepfather once. For a few years."

"You did?" Aurelan exclaimed. "No one told me that."

"Because he's someone we'd rather forget," Sam explained.

"Why?" Aurelan pressed, even knowing she would hate the answer.

Jim pointed at the living room; his hand was shaking. "Over there is where he nearly killed me."

"What?" Aurelan whispered hoarsely.

"He was a drunk with anger management issues," Jim managed to explain. "When Mom was offworld, anyway. And I was his… his punching bag. If he ran out of alcohol, it was my fault. If I couldn't fix the farm equipment, he'd beat me and banish me to the shed with no food or sleep. If my grades slipped, if I napped or ate without his permission, I'd get beaten. If I dared to crack a damn smile, he would punch it off my face. And one day when I was thirteen, I drove Dad's antique Corvette off a cliff after running from a cop, so after Frank picked me up from jail, he almost killed me under the TV."

Sam gently wrapped one arm around his brother and held him close. Jim leaned against him, his breaths shuddering.

"Oh my God," Aurelan breathed. "That's… That's only one of the terrible things that happened when you were thirteen?"

Jim stiffened. "What do you know about that?"

"Leonard only told me there were two defining events," she explained hastily. "What… what's the other one?" _What could possibly be worse?_

"Not now," Sam warned his wife. Jim was now visibly shaking against him.

"Ok," Aurelan agreed. She stepped over to kiss Jim's cheek, and he grabbed her hand and held tight. Tucked between his brother and sis, he stood there, his breaths shaky. Eventually, Winona and Leonard came inside, and only after they joined the group hug did Jim manage to calm down. They managed to coax him to the couch to take a nap, despite his protests, where he slept without nightmares, safe with his family.

* * *

A/N: I don't know how I feel about that ending. Or the whole Aurelan POV section, really. Anyways, I'm thinking the next chapter will be the last, and if it somehow ends up not being the last, my goal is to finish by the time I see Beyond, because at that point I'll most likely become hopelessly embroiled in writing fanfic about what happens during the movie and I'd rather not leave you guys hanging for long periods of time again.


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: Here we are. The final chapter. Which I stayed up about 2.5 hours too long to finish. I get to see Beyond Wednesday night after marathoning the first two in the theater, and I AM SO EXCITED. Also, I've heard that not only is Star Trek 4 confirmed (without Chekov, sadly - RIP Anton), but Chris Hemsworth is coming back as George Kirk, and as both a dedicated Marvel fan and Trekkie, I AM SO EXCITED.

Anyways, I hope you like the ending!

* * *

"Time to get up, kid."

Jim tucked his blanket more firmly over his head. Bones tugged it off.

"Come on, kid, the three of you agreed to this. Get up, sleepyhead."

Jim groaned, but he started to sit up, so Bones stepped away. Jim glanced around the room – it wasn't much, but he was going to miss it. It had been a great weekend, and Jim had probably had too much fun playing with the boys and completely forgetting adult responsibilities, but no one had stopped him. Nor had anyone separated Bones and Jane against their will. The little girl seemed to know that Bones needed her, and she had bonded happily with the curmudgeonly doctor, and he was happier than Jim had ever seen him. The relaxation and simple family time and no threat of imminent death had been good for them. Well, Jim tried cooking once, but only the stove had really been harmed…

Those simple times were over now.

Bones grabbed his suitcase, packed and ready by the door, and decreed "I'm going downstairs. If you're not there in ten minutes, I'll sic the twins on you."

"I'm up, I'm up," Jim insisted, shoving his blanket off and rolling to the edge of the bed. Knowing the twins were excellent shots with spitballs and rubber bands, he rushed to comb his hair, stuff his belongings into his suitcase, and pull on his dress uniform. But as he fought to smooth a stubborn group of hairs, he met his own gaze in the mirror. For a moment, he met the eyes of a ghost.

 _"Your father was captain of a starship for twelve minutes. He saved 800 lives, including your mother's. And yours. I dare you to do better."_

 _"Congratulations, Captain. Your father would be proud."_

Someone knocked on the bedroom door. "Sweetheart?"

"Coming, Mom," Jim called, quickly smoothing the hairs and stuffing his stuff in his suitcase. When he opened the door, Sam and Mom were standing there. Sam wore a simple tuxedo, while Mom wore an elegant blue dress. It wasn't a dark mourning blue; it was vibrant, almost electric.

Blue was the color of sadness. But it was also the color of the sky. It was the color of doctors and scientists. Blue brought tears, but it brought possibility and healing and discovery.

Mom took his hand and rested a soft kiss on his cheek. "Happy birthday, sweetheart."

"Happy birthday," Sam echoed.

Jim smiled. "Thanks."

Their happiness was muted, but it was there, untinged by resentment. And Jim suddenly realized that was all he had ever wanted for his birthday.

"Time to go," Sam reminded them.

Right. The memorial.

-LLAP-

A cloud drifted away from the sun, allowing golden light to shine down on a statue that rose above the field, its sleek silver surface shaped as the _Kelvin_ , angled to fly into the stars, the names of the fallen etched into its nacelle in flowing calligraphy. Flowers sprouted below it, arranged in angled stripes of red, yellow, and blue, formed the Starfleet symbol, the point aimed in the ship's flight path, the rest flowing out behind it. On a normal day, it would soar in solitude above the emerald grass, but now it provided the backdrop for a crowd of people.

It was upon these people that Jim, standing on a temporary outdoor stage, looked. His mother and brother flanked him, while Bones, Aurelan, and the kids provided support from the front row. Two microphones stood on either side of the front row; each had had a line of people behind them, asking the family questions, but now the last person was returning to her seat. The hostess, a young African American woman with kind green eyes, rose from her seat on the side of the stage, a gentle breeze ruffling the skirt of her lavender dress.

"Any last words?" she inquired.

Mom and Sam both shook their heads, and Jim almost did the same, but his eyes scanned the audience. They all watched him intently, but he could see the weariness in some. It was the weariness of grief, of a hard life. But still they stood here, in the cold outdoors, to pay their respects to those who had died thirty one years ago today. Maybe they could see those same qualities reflected in him, or his mother, or his brother. He owed them something for that silent comradery.

"The only name that really gets mentioned," he began, "is George Kirk. The famous story of the man who sacrificed himself mere seconds after naming his newborn son. When I was a kid, that was the only name I cared about, too. But now that I have a ship and a crew of my own, I would be remiss to leave out the other important people: The crew. The man who was trying to reroute power to phasers when his console exploded. The woman who was running to free a trapped crewmate when the hull breached. The nurse who forgot his own safety to protect a patient. The shuttle pilot who left behind friends to save the lives in the back of her shuttle. The woman who brought a new life into the world as her love's life was sacrificed.

"Dozens lost their lives that day. Hundreds more were injured. A lucky few remained alive and whole. Their names are unknown to most, but to someone, they are a hero. Without them, another person would have died, would have left behind friends and family. It's not just because of my father that my mother and I survived; it's because of the nurses who guided her through her agony, and the shuttle pilot who ignored her cries and obeyed my father's order to leave without him. Without those people, I would have died in the womb, and my brother would be an orphan.

"There are many ways to be a hero. It can be something as simple as telling someone they look good today, or something as drastic as the ultimate sacrifice. Maybe you won't go down in the history books, but your life will impact someone. Maybe you'll even become that person's role model. Like my dad is mine. I'm proud to follow in his footsteps.

"But a word of caution. When becoming a hero, you can lose yourself. I went from unknown to a hero over the course of a single mission, just like my father, and no one could resist making the connection. So I spent the next few years trying not to be him. But recent events have made me realize that he and I are connected by more than blood, even though we never had the privilege of meeting. With this knowledge, I'm the happiest I've ever been in my entire life. My birthday will always be shadowed by this loss, but this year, I can also enjoy it.

"There's nothing wrong with wanting to be a hero. There's nothing wrong with wanting to be like your role model. Just remember that you are unique, and though you could very well go on to emulate your role model, you will always be your own person with your own life, no matter what anyone says. You'll make mistakes, and things will go wrong. So go out and be a hero. But stay true to who you are. Don't lose yourself trying to be someone you're not. All you have to do is the right thing at the right time. No matter how insignificant it may seem to you, I can guarantee you that you just made somebody's day. You've lightened their load, and that is the essence of heroism – not how many people remember you, but that one person's life was improved by you."

His speech ended in an audience silenced by tears, but slowly, they began to clap. Quietly. Respectfully.

"Thank you, Captain," the hostess murmured, smiling through her own teary eyes. "My father was the one piloting your shuttle. His best friend died by the warp core."

Jim dipped his head to her. "Tell him I said thank you. To both of them."

"From all of us," Mom added, nodding at the Kirks and McCoy in the audience.

For once, Jim left the stage happy and satisfied, not at the attention he'd gotten, but from the smiles he had seen.

-LLAP-

When they arrived at the transport station, Jim let Bones pull their suitcases out of the car, instead stepping aside with Sam.

"What I said about you copying Dad…" Sam began.

"Don't bother," Jim interrupted, shaking his head. "You had a point. You made it quite rudely, but you had a point."

Sam lightly slugged his shoulder, then threw one arm around him. "I'm gonna miss you, little bro."

"Dude, we'll probably vidchat every week. It'll be like I'm there, with the amount of times Mom calls."

"Darn. I was looking forward to being the only child again."

Now Jim slugged his brother.

Peter wandered over, his eyes glued to the sky. "Is the _Enterprise_ really up there?" he wondered.

Jim looked upwards, too, grinning. "Yes, yes she is."

The boy sighed longingly. "I wish I could see her."

"Well, we don't have to leave spacedock for a little while yet. Maybe you can see her today."

"You've done it now," Sam whispered.

Peter's jaw dropped, and he sprinted over to Aurelan. "Mom! Uncle Jim says we can visit his ship!"

Henry's eyes widened. "Can we?!"

"More time with Uncle Bones?" Jane gasped excitedly.

Aurelan put her hands on her hips. "I _suppose_ , if you _really_ want to…"

The twins jumped up and down and high-fived. "Sweet!" they chorused.

"But only if you want to," Sam pointed out.

In response, the twins ran inside.

"Don't run into anyone!" Aurelan called, but they didn't slow. "Why do I bother?" she sighed.

Jim grabbed his suitcase from Bones, who shoved it into his hands with an annoyed look, and jogged after Sam to catch the twins. The family beamed aboard, and while the twins looked around the shining white transporter room with awe, Jim focused on a different sight.

"Hi, Carol," he greeted happily, stepping off the pad to hug her.

"And who are these cuties?" she asked, wriggling free and turning to the kids.

"What? You haven't seen me in a week and you focus on them?" Jim complained.

"That's Jane, Henry, and Peter," Bones introduced them. "And those two are Aurelan and Sam."

"So you're the woman who's stolen his heart," Aurelan observed, holding her hand out. Carol shook it, doing the same with Sam.

"You know, she might be your aunt someday," Mom whispered conspiratorially to Jane.

"Mom," Jim protested.

She just grinned at him.

"Where's the bridge?" Peter demanded excitedly.

"Is that the console? How does it work?" Henry asked curiously, calmer than his brother, walking over to where Scotty sat.

"Ye like figuring out how things work, do ye?" Scotty asked delightedly.

"He does," Aurelan confirmed brightly.

"Well, I'd be happy to show ye!"

"You can show off our ship another time, Scotty. We've got a schedule, remember?"

"Next time, then, laddie, I'll give ye a tour of Engineering."

Jim and Bones left their suitcases in the corner, to be picked up when Jim's family left, and started for the bridge. Aurelan clamped down on Peter's hand to keep him from running off, and Bones picked up Jane.

"Where's medbay?" Jane piped up as they stepped into the turbolift.

Bones grinned. "A couple decks up. When your brother gets his tour of Engineering, I'll give you a tour of my kingdom."

As the turbolift door slid open, a familiar voice announced "Keptin on ze bridge!"

Uhura and Spock, standing by his station, turned around. Uhura brightened at the sight of the kids, moving over to Bones, while Spock dipped his head coolly.

"Remarkably, you have arrived early for your shift."

"I'm even properly dressed," Jim added. "Well, sort of. Good to see you, Spock."

"It is good to see you as well, Jim."

"The captain's chair," Peter breathed, staring in awe at Jim's favorite chair.

"Go ahead and sit in it," Jim allowed, smiling when his nephew scrambled into the seat. He stepped over and leaned on the back of it, absorbing the view of Earth. Bones walked forward to acquaint Jane with Chekov and Sulu, joined by Sam. Behind him, Carol, Uhura, Mom, and Aurelan chatted. Henry pestered Spock with science questions, which the Vulcan happily answered, his unease around children forgotten. At some point, Scotty had followed them, and was also talking science with Jim's nephew.

 _Home,_ Jim sighed silently, perfectly at ease as his entire family mingled around him. And for the first time, he didn't know if he meant Riverside, Iowa, or the _Enterprise._

 _Both. Both. Both. Both is good._


End file.
